he opens too far
could it be he's gullible or just too trusting, although quiet, as if a separate world of his own exists swirling in jagged conversations inside his head, one can easily extract from him legends that noone would have ever thought them as part of who he is. his legends, true and unjaded, make him. ask him a question and he will send his life pages flipping alive. marvelous his stories are of his life, albeit true and unassuming, a problem speaks of him as being too open a book.
restraint demands him take doses of distrust and paranoia.
love on the other hand compels some sort of self sacrifice.
time also leaves scars, especially when absence makes the heart more callous and ingrained in pain. she appears to forget. he dwells in more longing. she seems to move on... far. she seems to move on... away.
he keeps... longing for a hopeful consummated meet.
and the more he trusts, the more his life opens with the world, the more the world becomes part of him, and all the love and pain the world keeps sweep him bitter, anxious, regretful, jealous. he confuses life. he loses love. he forgets to cherish what could have budded from the she he longs for. the gullibility of life spins wherever. i lose them all.