liking a guy that’s too old for me. aka a terrible freewrite about emotional frustration and being a teen

maybe i'm an old soul, too mature for the boys my age, or maybe just attracted to guys i can't have for the subconscious thrill of it. who knows. all i do know is that i toss myself into a painful cycle of attraction, connection, love, and realization that tears me limb from limb until i'm just a bleeding heart on the cold ground.

i love your intellectual poise, sharp eyes, your witty tongue,

your hands that build empires with written words,

i love your mind that fathoms ideas and theologies beyond imagination,

your heart that beats quicker as the moon rises.

i see myself in you. i don't know if i feel instinctual fear or safety in response.

i feel at home when i'm embraced by your sage words of infinite knowledge,

as if the stars extend their light to hold me tightly in arms of wisdom.

i know i'd love to become a star myself,

lost in your world of hidden messages and foggy windows that leave room for interpretation and imagination.

but i know it will never happen.

i'm young.

i don't know what i'm talking about.

how could i possibly feel your emanating warmth if all i've been taught was the chill of winters wind.

these four years separating our souls is "too much"

but how much is too much when it comes to the intellectual barriers between myself and other peers?

how much is too much when i can't find hope searching between the indexes of 2 & 3 years?

my soul is yours, regardless of the fallacy of time;

yet the space between our minds makes up the difference.