MOH

Really good to have it the second time in my life.
I really do.
I like having you in my life.
You are reality, who keep reminding me what are there and who am I here.
I try to find the definition of "slut" in the dictionary immediately afterwards.
I miss your words.I miss my passion.I keep learning for you.I trace you without any hesitation.But frankly,it is still not love.No reasons left to ask why.Maybe at the end of the story, I will choose to lie to myself in order to survive.Now I am freaking out, could someone help me out there?

I am studying your eyes.Please give me some time.How could human always need a proof for love at the wrong time?