The rain slowly falls, hitting the drainpipes, spattering against the window. I lie here, trying to get fall asleep, but the questions "does he really love me" keeps running circle around the inside of my head.
Thoughts catapult the sides of my head, just as the rain hits the glass window, not two feet above my head. I feel my mind running circles. The thoughts bundled inside my head, break free and run riot. So many questions, and not knowing the answer is absolute torture.
SHould I back off?
Am I too involved?
Does he truly love me?
Would he love me if he really knew me?
Why does he seem so vague when I'm around?
I probably know the answers to these questions, but can't face saying the answers out-loud, or too myself. These thoughts run around, riot and catapult the insides of my head, my mind, my heart.
Thoughts, endless, continuous, thoughts. They ravage me of any sanity I might have once held. The only whispers of any real emotions I might'v felt. NOw, all I am left with are anxiety, guilt, linliness and apprehension, and the dried up husks of emotions worth feeling.
The voices inside my mind scream out at me "HE'S FOUND SOMEONE ELSE!" "HE'S FOUND SOMEONE BETTER THAN YOU!" "HE'S LYING TO YOU!" "HE'S STRINGING YOU ALONG" But my heart decides to go into combat and screams back "YOU LOVE HIM!" "YOU NEED HIM!" "YOU'R NOTHING WITHOUT HIM!"
Some days the arguing gets so intense, and sit down in the darkest corner of my room and cry. I cry because I don't know what to think, I cry because I don't really know him. I cry because I know so little of his life, so little of his past. And I cry because I ache.
My heart aches for the bond that we would have, if it weren't for the space. My fingers ache for his touch, my body aches for his body, and my soul aches for all the times we've argued.I ache for him although I know we don't click like we used to. We drift apart, and then we get close again, then we drift apart again. We don't click together like two matching peices of jigsaw puzzle anymore. But I still love him.
I love his voice, his personality, hise face, his eyes, his whole outlook onl ife. I love him and everything he stands for.
He's kept me alive - literally - many times I'v thought about death. Some call it suicide - I just call it the end of one existance, the beginning of the next. Some call it an end - I call it a beginning.
I owe everything to him. I don't know why he says to me that he loves me - there is nothing left to love.

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