Sometimes I slowly begin to learn that I am a fake. I hate to think that, and realizing it stings for sure. But the more I learn, the more that I think, the more that I realize how weak I am. I cry, I feel crappy, I want to throw up.



I hate feeling this way. I hate the fact that I could not be anywhere near as strong as I have been pretending to be for all of these years.



I always knew that I was putting on a show, I have been well aware of it for a long time. I knew that I was a fake, because every single time I am alone, I am thinking about nothing but him. I am not supposed to be that girl. I am supposed to be strong, silent, amazing. I am supposed to be the woman who can walk around with heads turning to follow me. I want to be the lady that can knock him off of his feet and seduce him on a whim.



I am in love with him, and I believe that he is amazing. I am not sure what has led me to this point in my life, but somehow, I am here, and I cannot help it. I hate feeling like I need him, like I need anyone at all. It makes me miserable on the inside, but being with him warms my heart even more. So where do we fall? How does this happen?



I guess I am not sure what to do or where to go from here?



Does anyone ever know what to do though? I am alone with these feelings that I am having, or is it a common occurance to not understand what to do with your life or where anything is going?



Sometimes I feel like I need to get away. Sometimes I think I need to get away from him and get away from this place. I love him though, and I am sure that I would never have the courage to leave here without him. And why not? I have no idea. I am scared a little bit of the possible future. All I know at this point in my life is that I want HIM. He is the reason that I do what I do, the reason that I get up in the morning and go to sleep at night.



He is not entirely the reason for these things, however, sometimes I do wish that he could be less a part of what I want. I do wish that he could love me the way that I love him. I want to be the last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep, the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up in the morning, and occasionally filling all of his thoughts in between. I don't have to be there 100% of the time, but I do want to flit in and out of his thoughts, I want to be there, naked, be there, in a dress, be there in his bed, in lingerie, drinking a glass of champange, and waiting for him to come and ravish me.


I am working on getting there again. I am working on holding all of the power. I am going to get there, dammit. I am going to be the goddess of his world.

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