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Does anyone know the difference between sex, love and obsession?

You came to me, offered me something I never thought. It was a moment of pain and fear. At first it seemed to get away, I could not bear maas suffering. But in the end I realized I wanted to be with you, need you, but ... did not want you, do not appreciate. Even were a friend for me, be with them comforted me more than to be with you. Laugh, mourn, speak, smile, are activities that seem not Entença. You refuse my invitations to the movies, coffee, bar, but you say will be with me. At one point when I could not Masy shouted, spat in your face all the stress and pressure that was in my head. I merged into my home. Food was my friend and songs of Celine Dion the perfect companion. I began to wonder, but doubt you thought of me. I exploded and I lost the reason to send a signal, that is what I felt what was happening. Thought you wanted more, what you had, but only discovered that the concept of love is different for both. Our dreams and goals are different but our souls seemed to want to be together. What I can give? You are allergic to romance, you hate chocolate and act in a miserable way. I ask you to treat me with respect and in return get only sarcasm and irony, hurtful. So passed the discusióny forgive me so fast, you turn the page, as if just want to come straight to you, ready at your feet. What happens? Me? With you? A Sometimes I even stop to think that I do the right thing, but when I caught. We're just sex. You make me feel a real man, sensual. Move across your body, again and again. While your curves and aroma of women succumb to me. You melt my words as I surrender to you and I feel a great pleasure and excitement so great that I can hear as I want. But still cross my mind ideas that will not leave me in peace. It is not what I want, not what I want. You end up exhausted. I fall at your side and listen as you want to stay curled. You say a number of other phrases in the situations I find it best ever I found out. Still hurting, hurting ... wishing me. I feel good about yourself, you increase my autestima and reinforce my masculinity, at least I think so. Then I look in the mirror and see it, I look at you and see a game, which seems to be the big winner. I'm leaving, preguntádome if I want to see you, while you rejoice with joy inside. The next day I miss you, I call. Sleep, as usual, dreaming, escaping reality. But I'm still here. Do not answer my messages. You do not care. It makes me sad So I turn to scorn. There should be careful ... I know to return repentant cry again and we will look ... sunk into silence. Vendrása me, I'll talk your ear and volverása be lighter than air. Our two bodies will be the same skin. Maybe I like you, make me forget who I am.

I hope to get away from you, but that will not happen while "I" is present.