Maybe I'll Regret This. Maybe I Won't.

I finished reading my book this morning. About 8 A.M. I always hate finishing books because it's the end. Even if a sequel exists, the tale that has consumed me for the entire night has winded it self down, out of existance. I always cling to the last ten pages or so, praying that it's not really the end... that I can magically start over without knowing and continue to read it for ever, re-experiencing the lust, love, fear, trust, hope...


I'm starting to think I'm on my last ten pages, baby.


You're coming at me in phases. You're completely devoted, I see you, we share glorious moment after glorious moment together, we part with a tearful goodbye and sorrow-filled promises to see eachother again, and then you get suddenly and unexplainably distant.
I'm clinging to every word you whispered in the dark, every touch you went out of your way to produce, wanting so bad to re-experience the lust, love, fear, trust hope...

But I can only re-read.

And when I re-read memories, like books, I already know the ending. I already know that you fall back into your routine. The one where I hardly exist. Where you're not cold, but you don't tell me you love me. You don't tell me you miss me. You don't fall for me all over again. I'm just remembering when you did.

When we talk, it's casual. "How was your day?" "What are your plans?" "What's up?"

I want to tell you so badly how I feel. I'm so lost right now. I don't know what you would say or how you would react if I ever told you that I feel this lonely. I don't know what you would think if I ever told you that you're the only thing on my mind when I cry myself to sleep... if I sleep at all.

In all honesty, I've been trying not to sleep. Very unhealthy, I know, not to mention irrational. But if I sleep, I'm afraid I'll wake up and a week ago today, now, this very second... Saturday, 1:00 PM... Would all have been a stupid dream.

No, I can't tell you how I feel. The one person I can tell anything to.

Because I don't want to hurt you with my pain. Odd, how that works.

So I send you a single text message. One that completely understates my emotions and thoughts right now. One that doesn't even brush the surface of my longing for you. A text message containg three words that someday I hope you'll understand.

"I love you."