I like it. Seeing that jubilant face. That smile. Those shining eyes that reflect excitement. No I don't want to remember that I brought the smile along, just that beautiful face, the glow, the brightness. I want to embed it into my memory, that ringing laughter that tickles my ears, that shimmer that caresses my cheeks,  the glow that almost blinds me, the smile that plays with his lips first and then mine. I wanna adorn my memories with that face and somehow i can’t seem to have enough of it ever. I can't seem to satisfy my thirst. I want more. I'm addicted to the beauty. It's like a drug. I want to touch it, I want to breathe it in, I want to let it fall through my fingers and I want to catch just before it bites the dust. I want to let it dance on my fingers, let it rise up my arm, let it glide down the hollow of my neck, let it flow down my bosom. I want to dive into the vastness of this beauty, lose myself in the depths of it, go so deep that I can't tell myself apart from it. I want it to embrace me, to pass through me. And in that process somehow I forget those stabs, that constant pain that finishes a part of me every second. It only surfaces when I think about it. It is persistent which is what makes it bearable. But it's there and my eyes give up when i think about it. I can't stop myself. I can't stop them.  But don't they help reduce the pain? I’m sure somewhere that knife gets a little blunt, hurting a little less maybe or somewhere the pool leaks a bit. But hey I still get to see you happy. Which is what matters the most, right? Right?