Play Pretend.

You know how sometimes you really want to text someome just to talk to them and they text you first but instead of being happy you feel pissed? You're mad because you know this will never work out, the facts are always there and the reality the same it was a year ago.

Let's pretend what we always wanted to do could actually happen. Let's pretend our little game of devils and angels is our life. Let's just act as if we don't know well enough we'll eventually fall apart again; and you'll finally be mine even for a split second. Ignore our connection and the way our minds and souls understand each other in ways we'll never be able to explain with words. And I'll ignore catching you staring at me and me looking at the other way so that no one else notices what is going on.

My greatest sin and biggest secret. A "swear you'll take this one to the grave" kind of relationship; one caught between pure love and affection and intense desire for the forbidden of it all. One day, sooner or later, we'll collide, for better or worse. I knew that all along. I grew up in chaos, my whole life has been an endless chaos I've been trying so hard to organise. Chaos: that's what you are, in and out; and that's why you feel like home to me. This is what I know, what I'm familiar with. Though at the same time, I can't fully see through you and it makes everything so tempting and mysterious. And, damn, God knows how much I love the unknown.

We're foolish because we both know this has been a dead end since the very beginning of it. We're so alike we couldn't stop each other from falling into a massive hole of "what ifs". What if it worked. It wouldn't, not for a long time at least. I'm fire and you're gasoline. Destructive combination. I know that we'll never truly be friends but I lost you once, I don't wanna see you go again. Maybe we were meant to meet but not in the way we wanted to and that's fine. You'll always be the Satan of my heart and me, well, the demons in your head in the shape of a woman.

Athina, x.