1.16

I wrote about her. It took me an hour and a half to draft and I let my best friend read it. He said to post it. He said I should never post it.
Nobody needs to hear what I have to say. I'll leave you with my translation of Catullus 85, not because it sums up what I was feeling, but because it's lovely and you deserve it.

"Odi et amo. quare id faciam fortasse requiris.
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior."

She's nothing and everything, and there's no way I could explain it.
She's as inherent as my mysterious bones, and she's killing me.