Completely unfiltered (or proofread) thoughts spewed out as a distraction

Do you know what it's like? 

To wait for you always, base everything off of your acceptance 

It's not like that 

It's not the need to get love from you that I didn't get from others, that I already have 

Always from you. 

You make me feel warm, like a bonfire in a chilly autumn night, summer too far gone and winter not yet here. 

Is that a cliche? I suppose. 

But then again, maybe the cliche's exist for a reason, feelings without a name but still universally known, something engraved deep into our atoms, our own personal stash of stardust we hold s close to our hearts, terrified of letting anyone else see it and yet always yearning of finding that someone whose being slots together with our own and melt into one. To find that someone we know is safe and warm, and wants to share their essence with you as well, who craves your soul like you do theirs. 

That's you. 

It's always been you, even when I didn't know about your existence yet, everything in me has always been drawn to you, dreaming of holding onto you and know I am safe, warm and loved with no fear of conditions to that safety, just atoms being pulled together and rejoicing for not having to be cold and alone anymore. 

I wonder if you know what it's like. Do you feel warm too, or is it only me? 

I hope you know. I hope you can feel the first rays of the summer sun warming you up and burning through the chill deep inside your bones, warm up your fingertips again. 

I still worry. 

I still worry that maybe, just maybe, I'm wrong. 

I know that you are my sun, my moon, everything that makes me burn bright and strong. 

But what if it's only me? 

What if everything I'm describing would sound foreign to you, just a silly dream of an overly optimistic child reaching for the stars that only exist in their dreams. 

And then there are the worries I feel dirty for having. 

What it you do feel that, but it's while looking right past me? 

What if you are the sun I circle, whose gravitational pull keeps me together and working. Smiling. 

And while you are my everything, what if I'm only a stray particle floating around you, while you are being pulled to someone else? 

It's a thought I can never shake. 

Always lurking under the surface, rearing its ugly head and roaring too loud for me to hear anything else anymore. I can't even focus on the warmth anymore, I know it's there because it's something that can never leave or disappear. But what if it can be dampened? 

I am still basking in your glory, but I'm losing my confidence. 

I'm wrapping my safety blanket around myself tighter and hoping it would help and let me feel your warmth as strong as ever, safer than before. 

Still, there is that chill worming its way in, freezing me from the inside out. 

It's not because your spark isn't strong enough, no. Your spark is the strongest, most stubborn and gorgeous source of light out there. 

I'm just scared that maybe my own flame is getting too weak and dull to brighten again. I'm running out of wick to burn, and maybe your spark could flame up better when merged together with someone else's, and I really wish I could say that no matter what I'd always want what is best for you, but by the moon that still pales in comparison to you, even I couldn't tell a lie that ugly. Not in a way I could ever truly convince my own collection of atoms to believe it. 

I want you to be happy, but I want your spark to be igniting and breathing the same oxygen as mine, thriving together and feeding off of each other, warming the other up until there is no room for any chill to ever make its way in. 

And even if it did? 

We would always warm the other up enough until their spark catches on fully again.