catharsis.

[you]: online.

[01:36] me: I understand
[01:36] me: don't I always?

[01:36] you: thank you
[01:36] you: I love you for that

my heart is a traitor. I curse it when it stops, when it starts, when I feel it begin to bloom again. I wish it could be damned to hell.

[01:36] me: hahaha
[01:37] me: you love me?

fuck this. fuck me for expecting a certain reply. fuck the way my hands are shaking as they stall over the keys, the way my pulse stutters like a dying flame. fuck the horrible, terrifying hope that flickers somewhere deep inside. fuck the memory of my 'do you still love me?' and your 'I'm not so sure anymore'.

just – fuck it.

fuck it all.

[01:37] you: i love you for being understanding
[01:37] you: not the i love you type of i love you
[01:37] you: well not yet

my spark gutters and dies out. my limbs remain numb.

I shouldn't have expected any less from you.

[01:38] me: ah
[01:38] me: i see

and see I do;

but the understanding leaves me cold.