Inebriated.

I aimlessly wonder if we're meant to be.
Speculating if it will be you and me,
I constantly yearn for your presence.

I lack the guts to tell
nor the strength to admit.
I fear of the unintended consequences
of the intended revelations.

But most, I am afraid
to deny that I am falling
or that i have already fallen.
It pains me that I cannot have you,
in as much as I encumber this load.

Maybe it is not the right time.
Maybe we have separate goals.
Maybe we're driven to achieve those goals.
Maybe it is better this way.
That we stay as we are.
Neither friends nor whatever.

Maybe it is not the right time.-
But it kept on perturbing me,
once in evey moment I am out of my world.
Time suddenly collapses,
space and eternity synthesize,
antithesis to the real and extant.
That maybe it is not the right time.

It is inebriating,
and totally perplexing.
mental confusion,
and emotional paranoia.
Seems like heaven,
fused with hell,
the feeling of wanting
and not wanting:

To be with You.