Impractially Perfect In Every Way

What a difference a day makes. What are we looking for, ultimately,in this lifetime? Can we put a price on happiness, or even a definition? Do we differ in our emotional needs or are we all still searching for the same, unknown. When the lines blur between thinking with our head, and with our heart, how can we decide. It's easy to cite that love is blind, but harder to determine whether it was ever present.I took a risk. I put my feelings out there and i'm hurting, so I gather that something at least was real. I've only recently rediscovered my tear ducts and I'm reluctant to let go of what [we've] had. I don't regret my actions but I can't fathom yours, maybe we don't believe in the same. My tried and tested method of "If he likes you, he will call you" is all over the place. I put a lot of faith in you and now I'm doubting your words. You say you put it all into words for me, that this is how it has to be, but denial hangs in the air. I want to know how you're feeling. I'm only mortal after all.