You ask me why I would come back? And the only answer I have is … how could I not. It doesn’t make sense to me on some level, but then, feelings don’t make sense, do they? And they don’t have to.
I don’t know where this thing with us is going. Maybe it’s just a night or two. Maybe it’s a month. Maybe it’s longer than can be measured by a decade. All I know is, life is too short not to come back here and not be with you like this again. Life is just too short, and I like being with you too much for me to give a crap about anything other than having another moment like this.
Reblogged from Josie, you're my source of most frustration.
