The H

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"Climb up the H of the Hollywood sign."

I wish I could. The H of the Hollywood sign is your wildest fantasy. But nobody gets it. Nobody in my surrounding does.

"In these stolen moments, the world is mine."

Let's say I fantasied about it. What a wonderful world I imagined. Full of love, laughter and understanding. Nobody would bother me there. It would be amazing.

"Nobody here, just us together."

She just described one of the many thing my H would contain.

"Keeping me hot, like July forever."

Wonderful. Just thinking about it makes my toes curl.

But the thing is: it will never happen. I'm torn between the real world and the "H" world. It's frustrating. I know I can't think like that, but I have the freedom to have my own fantasy, don't I?

I just realized, while writing this, that I'm hurting myself.

Hell. I'm gonna hurt myself.

Life wouldn't be life if it wasn't filled with bittersweetness.

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