succumb

i try not to think about him, so i cannot write about him.

i fail, obviously. it's like not thinking about living. not thinking about what to eat, what to wear, where to go, when to sleep, who to talk to. it's unthinkable! if only he can be unthinkable! but alas, my poor heart cannot survive a day, or an hour even, without the nourishing thought of him. as it is, i am already half-dead as i compose this post, dead some minutes ago, and revived by his pictures in friendster some seconds ago (and counting).

i love looking at his pictures. he looks like some spoiled brat who wouldn't think twice about throwing tantric fits if deprived of all that he wants. and i wish, i'm part of those wants. tee-hee. wishful thinking never hurts.

what hurts is the fact that in his pictures, winnie is there with him too, smiling, mocking me for having fallen in love with the man he owns...

aaargh!

i die again.