Love is so powerful that it never leaves your side. Ever.

All day I think about him. Them. And you think it'll leave as you drift off to sleep. But it most certainly doesn't. It infects you're brain like crazy and takes over ever cell of your brain. Every molocule of your mind is absorbed by that one person. Dreams are perhaps the most amazing places in the world. There, you can be who you want to be, and do what you want to do, with who you want to. Nothing can ever come close to that feeling of having someone you want and love with all your heart. Dreams have no boundaries. Fall asleep and that's where you can everything and anything you want. Be with him, for eight solid hours. Just sit and hold hands, talk, or maybe more. Whatever you like. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

Just be prepared for that emptyfeeling when you wake up and realise it was all, well, a dream.

I realise this may be all too depressing, but really it's not. Someone once told me: "It's better to love than to be loved".

I have to say I agree.

And then there's the guy you like in the completely non-lust way. That one guy who looks like he's the one. The actual one. The one you want forever for a serious relationship. Not the one to call hot or show off or flirt crazily with. No, the actual one who you just want to be with. Nothing less, nothing more. The one guy you don't want to admit you like. Because you're so afraid that if you admit it, even to yourself, that he'll screw you over and ruin everything forever.

So you meet him, and you realise, yes, this is it. You like him, he likes you. It's obvious, everyone's saying it. This is going to happen. Being around him makes you so happy, so crazy, so warm, so perfect, so you. And the night ends on a high...exchanging numbers and that exhilirating, electrifying hug that makes your heart beat and your pulse race. Happiness.

But then it never lasts. Not with the real ones. He goes off...gets himself some other wench. And the dream is shattered. Reality stares you in the face again. Back to before. But maybe worse. You can't get him out of your head. His face is there, infecting your brain like a drug. A drug you know you shouldn't have, but a drug that you're addicted to. You want more and more, so badly. And at the same time you hate it, him, so much. You want to scream and shout and show the world what he did to you. You hate him for doing this to you, you hate yourself for letting him do it to you. For letting yourself fall in love.

And you try and forget. But it's never that easy. It never works that way. More guys come along, who may be into you. But what is even the point. They can never make you feel how he could. No-one can.

Ever.

But who is the one?

I know it's wrong, but I like half the guys I look at. But who tops the poll? Who do I really want? Why is it that the one that I want the most always the one that I can never have? Why does life, and love, work that way. It's wrong, just plain wrong. That one guy, the one who makes me smile, grin and tingle all over. The one who I dream about. The one that I never shut up about. The one whose smiles and winks make me melt instantly. The one that I want no-one else to have. The one I want for myself only. The one I'd want no matter what he did. The one who I'd still love even if he was a complete failure. That unrelentless pain that you feel deep inside whenever you realise he can never be yours says it all. That's when you know he's the one. The only one.

Him.

Only the second entry. But I can't wait any longer. He's on my mind 24/7. This is it. For me. What does he even know. I just can't stop thinking about him. His face is there, staring at me. His beautiful, gentle, kind face, with that slightly michievious grin. That little bit of quirkiness about him that sets him apart from anyone else in the room. In the building. In the world.

But what can I do about it. He's too old. Too popular. Too different. Too hot. Too talented. Too cheeky. Too amazing. He's there, constantly. I just want to talk about him forever, talk to him forever. What I wouldn't do...