You.

It's 3 AM again. And I'm still up. I just cannot stop thinking about you. It's like adrenaline. It just keeps rising like when I'm thinking of ways to get to that rock in the middle of that effing waterfall. Like jaundice. In the middle of summer. Just doesn't go away. I'd love to simply let you out of my mind, so that I have some space that I can utilize for other things.

Not better things. Other things.

I wish I could simply have just said "Hi" everyday, and left it at that. But No. I HAD to fall for you. I HAD to tell you that I like you, and that given a chance, I would do anything possible to get you. I HAD to stop and tell you that I believe in miracles.

I'm still waiting for you to get back to me. I said Hi. Your move. But now I'm desperate. I simply cannot stop fidgeting with things around me. Checking my cell for your text every 5 minutes. And that's while it's on full ring volume. Imagine what I do when it is on silent mode.

It's like I'm standing at a crossroads. All of these lead to different places. But I'm still ready to pick any road that leads to you. "Two roads diverged in the woods", goes the poem. And I want to take the one that leads to you.

Again, another one by Frost:
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

All of this, just so that, I can reach a place, where I can see you, meet you, touch you. Explain to you that nothing else is important to me. It's like this monster inside of me. It growls every time you say another man's name. It purrs when you tell me that you miss me. That you miss chatting and talking to me. I know it's me you are looking for.

I wonder where you are right now, and I'm wondering what you're doing right now. I'm still waiting for your message, by the way. It's late. Really late.

"The last time you were a free man, the Brooklyn Dodgers were still the Brooklyn Dodgers, and Eisenhower was your President." (Just had to bring this in).

I'm still waiting.