To my Kryptonite,
You weren't just a one-night stand.
Whatever this is, it's not driven by pure lust. I cannot claim, however, that it is love.
Oh, far from it.
There's something about you though, that strikes me so. Though I know that harboring these feelings are unhealthy for my sanity and my soul, I can't help but. It's a strange compulsion - a mild obssession, if I may. It's unsettling, troubling and utterly uncomfortable.
The good thing is, I don't think think of you nearly as much as I used to.
But when I do, oh, it makes me want to cry.
I must've met you for a reason. A good one.
For the life of me, I can't figure out why.
I won't fight it. I won't condemn it.
It is what it is.
The answers will come someday.