Thrown into the harrows of utter silence. I sit and weep. I miss what I once had. I miss how it made me feel. I miss how he loved me and how he did everything within his power to prove to me that what he was feeling was real. What happened to love. Did the idea of time and space happen to it? Did the world come along and take it along with the undeceive wind? Or did I happen to it?
Am I hard or difficult to love? I think that I do what is in my will to make him happy. I think...however, the truth can be a bit disheartening. The days go by and then the weeks and after that the months and eventually the years. They all come and go and soon I see myself reliving the same month that I did last year. Like clock work that month comes around again and I am there again. I try to count the hours and the minutes, but I fall short. Because now the moods are sporadic and heavy. I hate heavy...but I am there. In the same hour as I was last month and reliving the same minute.
Nothing is ever right. Nothing is ever good enough. I wish that I was somewhere else and doing something else. I wish that I had new air to breathe. I new place to open its arms wide and accept me. I wish that I knew what happened to love. I would chase and ask it what has it been up to. Why had it left me? Did it not like my home, was it not cozy enough. I would tell love that I miss it and I want it back. I would...I would...I would ask love to love me again.