@iice something close
@nayah thanks

^
thanks

^
lol thnks.

slimyem:

nice write-up but may i ask who she is??

someone

They say the worst thing about hell is the knowledge that you've missed heaven. So I can rightly claim to be in my own private hell, for the most painful part of being here, and alone is the knowledge that I'm not with you.



The scent of you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your hair, the few strands of hair on the cold pillow beside mine, and a gallery of memories too precious to forget, yet too painful to dwell on; these are all the mementoes I have of a heaven so brief, so fleeting it seemed unreal and only serves to contrast my current situation.



Yet I wonder, why did it have to be so? Did I have to find you, only to lose you again? We used to be in love, what happened? We used to be close, who drifted? I assume we both did, though why is something we'll never willingly admit to ourselves, yet we know, and, bound by the conventions we set, pine and long for each other, distant though close. We did what we felt we had to, and the consequences plague us more than we're willing to admit, yet we don smiling masks and wear bright makeup to hide our sorrows and pains.

A good book (at this time I am unsure which) says somewhere that love endures all things, tolerates all things, and believes all things. Could it be, then, that we did not love? I think not, I know we loved, yet something happened. The truth is, I find you faultless in the bargain, for I am also guilty, I think, of loving myself more than you. Please don't hold it against me, for if I can not love myself, what hope have I of convincing someone to love me?



I look, but I don't see, I chew, but I don't taste, I swallow, but it may well be air for all I know. Like a sandwich with no filling, like a tree with no leaves, like a dog with no teeth, I wallow, potential unmaximized, wilting, but still, before the darkness falls completely, I draw one last breath to say: Come back to me. I miss you.