This is going to take a while to write. I am, /I was/ happy. 
I'm at a point in my life in which I should just probably be 
alone. But as the moth is in constant search for the light, 
so am I not at all indifferent to the passing stars which 
light up my days.

I need time to think. I need time to be comfortable, being 
alone with myself and my thoughts. I need to be happy again, 
when nobody is there to help me feeling useful if not loved.

Or that was what I planned: nothing else than rest, from the 
frenetic and painful search of somebody which started in 
June. If I'm happy with myself, I won't be searching just 
for anybody anymore.

I added more rules to my list: now I know what went wrong, I 
saw a pattern in the list of girls (die du immer sonst 
gerne hast). I understood why I wanted them so badly, and I 
decided to avoid this kind of mistake, recognizing it 
wouldn't work in the long term, as always.

And it worked, somehow. The smiling for no reason, the now 
long weekends, the slightly better organization of my life. 
I felt better, as one may feel refreshed whilst waking up 
after a nightmare, recognizing non of it were real.

But as your head produced those same dreams, my demons don't 
just die. They just lay there somewhere, waiting for the 
next dark spot in my life, there to remind me how I'm 
hanging to a small rope.

And then I met you. I'm feeling weird just to write this 
words, I'm afraid I've never lived nor described what's 
between us in words, let alone the fact that (what a shock) 
I am not at all sure of what's going on.

From my point of view, I know exactly where the tracks lead. 
I found you funny and smart the first time I saw you, was 
not really sure who you were or what I could possibly offer 
you in exchange for your presence.

Then we talked, and started this message exchange in which 
I'm getting to know you, and how much we have in common. 
I've been purposedly ignoring how much I'm looking forward 
to your replies, and how beautiful of a picture I'm painting 
in my head of you, even more attractive than you in person. 
And, as you know, I find it extremely difficult to link you 
phisically to the person writing about herself and opening 
to me, with no fear of being who you are.

I am going to fall in love with you, this is sure as the 
sun dawning on our eyes every day. You've burned the steps 
so fast I'm trapped in your web already, although you want 
friendship, at least nominally. On the other hand, maybe a 
friendship between us is actually possible. Knowing and 
seeing you today, I have the feeling you belong to the 
out-of-my-league list more than anyone else now.

Who am I kidding I'do whatever to be part of your world, 
even playing with no rules. I'm not sure what you do want 
from me, nor have I really understood your type; are you 
really so clueless, not seeing I want to kiss you every
time I look at your smiling eyes? Or you're just not 
believing what I can feel for you for some reason?

The main result is that I'm again in a dangerous situation. 
I can't stop having you, and my happiness is again doubly 
bound to somebody's whims. I'm going to be broken again, as 
soon as you leave. Use me as you want, but please, please, 
don't hurt me. It may be already too late...