rI've always wondered what is that keeps me there, that I always come back, with arms wide open, to it, to them.
Is it love, or is it the repulse of the rejection, fear of lonliness, an unfulfilled desire maybe, or me being weak, me being a nice guy, being too forgiving, or is it pitty, or self pitty.
I guess it's some kinda addiction.
But I still wonder.
2 comments:
You are one hell of a writer, Behrouz!
I, your uncle, and my sister, your Mom, really enjoyed this posting of yours...
Noush...
Where are you man?!
Post a Comment