Platonic and romantic love differ by a thread, and when does one meld into the other, or rather, degenerate into the former, there can be no telling. The frequency of meetups seem to dictate the conditions but I may be mistaken.
The situation may be comprehensible, but acceptance is of another sort entirely.
It adds on another scar on my already scarred heart, as I try to mute it and mitigate the pain, but it may be too much insofar that it's extinguished altogether.
It was like a tight slap, that it might degenerate into an obsession. It's not me. At all. To devolve into that mindless slave for love who pines for something so illusionary. But today, I did something for myself, finally.
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