The female doesn’t want a rich man or a handsome man or even a poet, she wants a man who understands her eyes if she gets sad, and points to his chest and say : “Here is your home country.”
I swear I’m okay. I’m just tired. And no, not just the kind of tired where I’ve had a long day, but the kind of tired where I slept for 7 hours last night, and yet, I feel as though I haven’t had a good night’s rest in months. The kind of tired where taking a deep breath feels like carrying twice my body weight. The kind of tired where I feel as though I’ve been searching for you as if you were the last piece of buried treasure on this earth. The kind of tired that I fear no amount of sleep can ever cure.
There is weight in the words we’ve said, too heavy to carry in our heads.