Just like you

They say when you love someone you see his face in everyone, but this time it’s not an illusion. He just looks like you. Once I saw him entering I couldn’t ignore the resemblance. That cute sweet face, that modesty, that egoist look, the way he holds his cigarette, he’s just like you. He’s just not a Virgo, he’s a Leo. I can’t avoid the way he rolls his cigarette and the passion in his eyes when he prepares them. I just remembered when you showed me your little secret your little sweet thin when I was scared to dive in your ocean and I wish I did I might had the chance to stay wrecked there and never have to leave, maybe I would have kept you more, who knew this will remain your hidden secret and my eternal question that will never find an answer.

Is it your memory or his impact that made my heart beat fast and can’t move my eyes off of him, he likes politics with a rebellious mind, just like you? He likes cultivated people with a specific taste in music, just like you. Behind his sweet rounded eyes a big sadness a big secret sleeping in a restless wounded heart he’s scared to show his sadness and reveal his sorrow. The more I see him, the more I’m scared to see you in him. He’s really just like you, even when he revealed his fetishes. They are just the same especially when he talked about his cigarette fetish, that took me back to your famous balcony in the early morning and your sweet underwear, with me tired lying on your bed defeated. He even attracted me by the fetishes that I have grown with you, his sweet white skin and his tiny sexy feet that show every time he sits. I don’t know if it’s him or it’s you.

I’m attracted to him or I’m obsessed with you? I see him or I remember you it’s just so confusing the only answer I have is that I can’t be with him and I can’t be with you. I am not his and am not yours. My soul is flying between a sweet memory refusing to leave me, and a sweet coincidence insisting on making me never forget you. Whenever I feel ready, strong to fly away, something comes and makes me remember that my heart is just confiscated by your memory.

He doesn’t know our story; he’s just so sweet I can dive in his eyes and his charming smile. I wish I can tell him how I feel, but NO! I can’t. I am not a perfect match for him as I concluded when he talked about his desires. I just feel happy when I see him; he’s just a lovely person that his story will never come true just like you.

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