I am so tough when you aren’t around. I know exactly what to say and feel and how to breathe. Then you are there and all I can think is take me home and love me. But it doesn’t come out that way. I just keep begging for the next chance, so scared you will leave me now or later. Used to be, I could only see our past when we were together, what we had done to each other and why and would we do it again? Now I cant unsee our future. It’s kind and beautiful and more honest than anything I have ever known, and I think it makes it more terrifying to see you, to wake up without you, to tell you I love you. God, I forgot how spoiled we are. How many nights have I stared at the ceiling and said what if I just had one more shot with the one? Man, I would do anything she wanted. I wouldn’t lie, or hide, or run, or make demands, or refuse yours. But we stand in front of each other and forget all those lonely nights, all that we have sacrificed for this love. All I want to do is stay but I run before I even know what’s happening. I want so badly to be what you want. Is this how I made you feel all those years ago, like you were nothing, unworthy of the affection I bestowed on you? Is it as intentional as most of what you do, or do you have your own demons with which to contend? I hope the former but I would imagine it is a blend. Regardless I am responsible, and it is deserved. That doesn’t make it any less painful or maddening, but you know that. None of it matters, really, I just feel close to you when I write. And in this world, I have no idea when or if I will get to see you again. Until we meet again, I love you, and I am staring at the ceiling wishing you were here.
General