Crazy stupid love

(c) D. Reichert

Be brave and maybe a little more bold.
Just don’t pretend and ask a lot of questions or you’ll never know the answers.
And really don’t forget: Just be yourself.

Well, sorry but right now I feel like myself is neither – not particularly brave and least of all bold.

To be honest, nowadays I’m happy that I actually manage to frame a complete sentence around you. Well, most of the time anyway.
I know that anything could happen. And I do know it will never be as bad as I imagine it might be. But knowing all that doesn’t really help – see, it’s not so easy to be brave when your heart is on the line.

Though, to be honest my heart isn’t really the problem.
Because my heart is fearless – it ran off with you the second our eyes truly met for the first time. Since living without a heart is not quite right, my mind decided to take a peek at where the heart became lost.

The result is this: The suckers teamed up and now my heart does a pretty nice somersault every time you walk by and to make matters worse I can’t seem to stop thinking about you the rest of the time.
So well, my heart obviously is so NOT the problem.

The real problem is the fact that I can’t get over myself.
I mean being shy is bad enough.
But then add a somersaulting heart combined with a one-track mind to it and what do you get? A walking, talking disaster – or simply: Me around you.
Intelligent conversations? Forget it!

My heart is doing a hippie dance and my mind throws in comments like: “Oh my god, look this eyes, so beautiful “ Some rational part sometimes tries to interfere: „Come on! Pay attention – what did he just say?“
So by now I’m pretty sure you think of me as mentally retarded – or maybe just plain boring.
And I’m not sure which one is worse.

The thing is: I like you – like a lot. I just seem to be unable to really talk to you.
Or be brave or even act normal. Well, okay it’s not like I’ve ever truly been normal.

I actually do not think “normal” truly exists anyway. But at least I’m usually able to at least pretend I’m not completely insane.
So maybe, the last advice is the one I’m able to keep: I am myself.
Insecure, strange and crazy me.

It’s just love that still sucks.


“Inside of me sings a lunatic”
(Sigur Rós)

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