I'm not happy. The more I think about it, the more it seems like I've never known how to be. The more I think about the rest of my life being this way, the more exhausted I feel.
When will the exhaustion outweigh the fear of what comes after? How much longer do I have to wait?
I've spent the last two years as a slow rolling nervous breakdown and I don't know how much more I have in me. It feels like nothing is ever going to be easy again.
No one is every going to get excited about me again, and I don't know how to live with that.
Eight months since you left and the dog and I still listen for your car.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm starting to wonder if I ever did.
You're the first thing on my mind every morning, I dream about you almost every night.
There's a quiet in the house, this void where you should be. It follows me like a ghost.
I miss the warmth of your hand in mine, fluttering in my chest when you smiled at me.
It will be winter until you come home.