Maybe if you clutched my heart.

       I cannot begin to put into words how I feel for him. To do so, I'd be compelled to lunch into my chest and rip out my still thrashing heart. Maybe if he clutched my heart, and placed it to his ear he may be capable of hearing the words within my heart. In the absence of that which I need I could not continue being. My everything.

I'm a ghost of my former self.

        I'm trying to move past this. But, I cannot get this out of my head. Everything reminds me, everything hurts. I'm only alleviated of my pain when I'm under an influence, friends or otherwise. I try to sleep, but I lay awake for hours in my bed, gripping the bear he gave me. And looking at the photos of him that haunt my slumber. When I close my eyes, images flash and flicker, not allowing me to rest. My dreams are violent outlets of my pain, they're my evasion. In my dreams, I'm released from this self-imposed prison, that I'm condemned to for what seems like until the end of time.

        I'm walking around a ghost of my former self. Nobody knows, nobody can tell. I'm dead on the inside, yet I live on the outside. Continuing my present life, living hour to hour. If there's an hour that I do not think of that which torments me, I'm then soon reminded.

A face that was once sparkling with intensity is now splintered by tears.

       Well, tonight I discovered that which has happened to me repeatedly, that which I believe to be my curse, has happened once more. He, whom I love faithfully to this and my very last heartbeat, have betrayed me in the most terrible way imaginable. He, whom my intuition smiled upon, and the soul I trusted most in this world, have contused me. In this moment, at the exact moment of my crux, and in every moment to come, I feel such emotional and heartfelt agony, that my physical self is also in a state of profound wretchedness.

        The tears will not cease from falling from my eyes, and perishing on my cheeks, from the beginning of my unfortunate quandary to the dawn of every new morning I have been sobbing in utter sorrow. It's now as though, my heart has had enough and has begun to suspend each and every one of my physical passions. Because, I literally cannot stop tears from gushing from my now blood shot eyes, and rolling down my now tear soaked face. A face that was once sparkling with intensity is now splintered by tears.

        I apologize if my words hurt him; I'm just trying to be candid and forthright because he requested me to do so. I am acutely heavy-hearted (severe, but I predict that this will be of short duration). I am certain that he would never break faith with me again and he will never again fail to meet the hopes of my trust and so much more. I honestly found it necessary to make lighter my heart by means of writing this, thus doing so I have poured my heart onto his feet. I ask him; please uplift me from this place of torment that I've fallen into. For his and my sake, I forgive him and attempt to dismiss this from my mind. Attaining peace of mind, may take some time, when tranquility finally returns into my soul, we can start our relationship fresh. Our love can once again be innocent and new, and mostly of all, pure.

He's my mental illness.

        Here I am once again, thinking of him. I've tried a distraction to avoid missing him. But, I guess my heart is on hold until 3:00 pm comes and I can hear his voice. I crave to hear my phone sing, "I know this hurts. It was meant to". Between the present and then, I think I might go mad. Mad with a need to have him near me. Mad with a need to be near him. Or I might just go mad, because he is my mental illness. And I don't want to be cured.

Be still my heart.

        Dashing to the door with high hopes, he's not there. I drop my hopes, and my head, on the walk back to sanity. My heart is likely to leap out of my chest every time I hear a car pass, or a door shut. Anticipating his return, I run to the door again and again. Hoping my eyes will meet with his as he walks up the driveway. No such luck. I run to the door again, I press my hands and face against the cool glass. I stare, searching for his car. I listen, searching for his sound. Where is he? Why hasn't he called at all? I might go insane with eager expectation. I look at the phone, maybe I missed his call. No. My missed calls list is as empty as I am right now, waiting for him. I turn around in my seat, to look once more. I put one foot in front of the other, my heart racing as I run to the door. I run out like a fool, only to be disappointed again. I'm riding a roller coaster that never comes to a stop, and my heart is racing.

Diamond in the rough.

        I'm intoxicated by my happiness with him, he quenches my thirst for passionate and tender dedication. He's an elixir formed with gentleman blended with sweetness, and mingled with character. He's so loving and devoted to me, which I was apprehensive about initially and I am sometimes neglectful of. But I now and always crave his touch and embrace. I love when he kisses me, I relish in girl like delight when he holds me, I particularly love when he plays with my hair and gazes into my eyes. I've always treasured this feeling sweeping my every sense. However, I thought this had been reduced to ashes when the other him broke my heart, when really this was just lost waiting to be found by someone special, that someone is him. I found this feeling like a glowing gem bounded within him.