don't say maybe.

he's trying to just breathe and not go deeper into this attack of emotion for her, but every time he sees her face or her name comes up in conversation or he sees pictures of her with other people, he wants to cry. he wants to scream and ask why not him, why can't she be with him. he knows if anything were to happen between them he would have to learn to let her spend time with friends, but at least he'd know that she's his. he could live with that knowledge as long as he could hold her and tell her he loves her. any time he tries to bring it up she manages to change the topic or not respond or whatever. it's pathetic how much he depends his life on one girl like that, one girl who can make him hate her so much at times with their differences.  one night and not even half a smoke and he's running back to the days when lady nicotine was all he could dream of. he missed the smoke curling down his throat, the head rush every once in a while when he'd done a bit of chain-smoking, the way he could open up and talk to people without a fear. his confidence has grown a little since those days, making it easier to talk to people without having had a smoke beforehand. he still misses it, mainly menthols. he felt so classy inhaling the minty smoke while everyone around else was smoking golds and blues.  <3 <3