I haven’t cried over you yet. Most people would consider that to be a good thing, but I cry about everything. I killed a bug last night and I started crying about that. I think about you all the time; the conversations we had, the smell of your soap, the mole on the back of your neck. I’ve long forgotten the sound of your voice, and how you said my name. My chest sinks into itself when I dream about us only to wake up and discover that you’re no longer here. And it’s not that I don’t feel anything, because everything hurts. I can’t listen to our favorite songs, or find joy in watching soccer, and I completely avoid the book we shared (it has been collecting dust on my book shelf since Christmas). I’ve just become numb, either that or I haven’t come to terms with the reality of the situation. I wonder when it’s going to strike; the tears that will leave my eyes blood shot and puffy for days, the sobs that will wrack my entire body, and the screams that will burst blood vessels under my eyes. And when it does, will it come in waves, or will it hit all at once? Few things are as unpredictable and inevitable as this. I hope that when it does come, I'll be okay. You're my Icarus, and I am the sun, but life without you is dimming my spirit, and I don't know how much longer I can continue burning.
come back to me before I forget you all together. I am in love with you.
