What I get for thinking

I keep thinking that this is a good thing. Like dessert after a meal. Like watching the sunset after a long day. That’s what I’ve come to believe. That no one’s every going to get hurt. That these feelings are just little ladders that will never take me very far.

But the truth is that it’s all just lies. Little bedtime stories I tell myself at the end of the day. So I’ll be able to sleep. So I’ll be able to live with myself. Because the truth is that love is so close I could strangle it.