Just when I thought--

Those old words.

Mine so foolish and yours poetic, as always. Tears and interminable laughter ensue. No one could make me smile like that.

I want to take action in this moment, but I truly believe its too soon. And I think I've finally decided this has nothing to do with everything else. That my indecision was an excuse to get over you.

I don't know that I can accomplish that.

And you will ask why I still love you, why I ever loved you.

I have not a list of reasons, but one single answer that suffices to tell all. Prosaic and probably trite, the kind of line romantic comedy hinges on.

When I'm next to you, not a piece of me is missing.

Not a Love Song

Running in Circles

Its beginning to feel different.

For that length of time, and I became keenly aware of the things I'd missed before, the things that had remained covered for years. The thing I miss the most is that touch.

I am still in love, admittedly, but that love has certainly changed. I regret. I regret.

My head hurts from this.

All that time, and I succeeded in being just friends. But now, after the disconnect, I feel like it was all wrong, it was a farce.

'I need to be friends with the person I'm dating.'
Those were the words and I understand them completely. I want that again; to be friends is wonderful, yet something, something important, is missing.

I haven't felt this sickness in so long, but it creeps through my abdomen now.

I don't know where to go.

Those plans I had will likely not be pursued--and not out of fear but out of the realized notion of their futility.

I am afraid to confuse this with something else. Afraid to let the other things get in the way and cloud my judgement.

But can 5 months really be wrong?

I cannot allow myself to sit back and wait anymore, but I also can't move forward because I'm not yet sure what I'm attempting to move forward to.

She hasn't forgotten; the problem is she refuses to remember.

In reply--

You have destroyed me.

Destroyed the false hope I was holding onto to make it through each moment. My false hope of proving you wrong, showing I could do it right this time.

I don't have much to offer, I am fully aware of that. And saying I'll try doesn't mean much, only that its another promise in this world which may or may not be fulfilled--what does it matter to you? There's no proof I'm actually attempting, or moreover that I will ever have any success in those attempts.

But its all empty now. Moving from place to place for the sake of going through the motions. There is nothing after this, least of all any remaining shred of hope for something. Anything.

I see why you erased it all, but I still don't see the change. Maybe I'm not allowing myself to; maybe this hole is so deep what little light I see leaves deep shadows, altering my view into something that isn't.

I can't explain it.
This.
You.
That ray of light disappeared, and now I'm following the darkness instead.