from under the fig tree

its funny i waste my time here, writing about how it scorns me to watch you live without me.
you'll never read it anyways. besides the fact that it's quarter past 2, and I haven't eaten all day, i'd die at the chance to be with you. not going to happen. it's as cruel as being stuck in this tiny house. watching the world around me shrink as i get older, and it's hard not to wonder if your parents had married other people, would they still have had you? Or would your personality be split between two totally different people? Love is a game of chance. You either find the one you are meant for, or the one you just get stuck with.
i keep looking at the clock at midnight, and noticing you're still in yesterday, while i'm in tomorrow, but together it's still today. soon enough i will forget about you, or that's what they will tell me. twenty years from now i will be discussing my silly little dreams with a friend, while you are long gone.

don't let my hope fade. please.