Circles

24

It really sucks waiting for you, Phil. You make me feel as if I've done something wrong. But I know I haven't. This would be easier if you hadn't kissed me. But you did. You fucking kissed me, and held me in you're arms, and when I whispered "I love you" before we fell asleep in your bed you said it back, and it's just not fair.

For you to leave like this.

We could've talked about it in the morning, and I would've understood, but you had to leave me with a stupid note for me to wake up to instead of your stupid beautiful face, and I hate you.

So much. But I'm not mad.

I really should be mad at you, but I kind of just want to kiss you again because your kiss gave me the safest feeling in the world, and I'm not feeling very safe without you here. You're the thing I want to run away from, and the thing I'm running towards at the same time. It's like I'm holding you in my arms as you hold a knife to my back.

I feel betrayed.

We were more than this once. We were a love story many tried to write, but couldn't quite find the words to fit together. There were missing pages in our story so we had to make up what happened as went along.

You loved me, and I didn't love you.
I loved you, and you didn't love me.
We loved each other, but you ran away.
Did I hurt you that much?

I'm not crying anymore because I see no point, but I wish I was sad enough to ignore how much time is passing.

It's been 22 hours 33 minutes, and 11 seconds since I found that stupid note. 12 seconds.

I just miss my best friend.
-

Missing someone is so suffocating. It's like having the air pulled from your lungs as so you desperately grab for it, greeted by only emptiness. You walk everyday like your normal and everything is fine, but you feel incomplete. You can feel the cold bony fingers of loneliness tightening on your neck.

You just want to see their face. To inhale their presence. To except their love. Sometimes you never get the satisfaction. I will see you again. I have to. But doubt is a knife and it cuts hope like a thin vein. When will I get to breathe again?