Passion
Sometimes I find myself so disenchanted with you, I look at you and occasionally you disgust me. I don't know if it's because of you, the place, or having to see you every day, but... You bore me, you mentally exhaust me, and often you make me sick. Yes, you make me sick. Sick of you trying to seduce me. Sick of you trying to disguise yourself as something you're not. Sick of you going with every man and woman who gives you a bit of attention. And in that precise moment when I have the sense to leave you, I start to remember why I fell in love with you in the first place. You were fun, unique. You made me laugh, you made me cry. You infected me with your passion. You made me feel alive. Where did that intellect go? Those stories filled with emotions? Why don't you try to amaze me like before? Maybe it's not your fault or mine. Or maybe there isn't even anyone to blame. I just know that we've changed, And I hope it's for the better. Because advertising,...