oh phooey.

 

I try to write a post about something other than love and I simply cannot do it. 

Oh phooey, you've got me, hands cuffed behind my back. My crime?  I can't stop thinking about you.

Did you know that I tried to hate you? Yes, yes I did. My intentions were good, I promise. You had my thoughts running marathons and my mind needed to stop to get a drink of water and catch it's breath. I needed to feel normal- whatever that feels like. 

If it makes you feel any better, I failed.