looking back.

cold breeze, scattered conversations. my afternoons are seldom exciting. i always notice you though, feel your prescence, almost. I know when you're near, i know the sound of your foot steps, and i can feel the weight of your breath. You never look at me anymore, so i can stare all i please, because your eyes never wander my way. your deep, brown eyes. on the rare occasion our gaze meets, you look right through me, as if i'm not even there. i just want you to see me. i wish i had something to say to you, but i never do. our conversations (initiated only by me) never last more than a couple minutes, and we don't connect on a higher level like we used to. the flame has stopped sparking, and the fires about to burn out. this is my last chance.

i need you, so much. im almost surprised that i have the strength to see you every day, when all i want is to hold you, touch you, hear your voice, see you laugh. my bones are collapsing. this is my last chance.

i go through my day, every day, wandering in a daze. a half-awakened state where nothing seems real, nothing feels real. they say i'm coming on too strong, but it's all i have left. i cant just sit around anymore and watch you. watch. watch. watch. it's all i do. i don't know if you notice, i don't know if they notice, but i'm always watching you. from the corner of my eye, i see you talk to that girl who's so much prettier and more charismatic than i am. i could see you dating her, from the way she acts and smiles and undresses you with her eyes. maybe the sleep deprivation is driving me insane, but i don't see you opening up emotionally to these girls.

we hung out a few days ago. it was awkward, the good kind, and maybe even a little of the bad kind. i just wanted to kiss you and hug you and tell you how much i've missed you and how i've stayed up three, four nights in a row crying and how my ribs ache, and my bones shake without you. but.. instead i politely smile and ask you about your day, and how you've been. i already know everything you're going to say.

i've tried, i really have, no matter how much i didn't want to, i have tried. i've walked, and thought and wrote and painted. my walks ended up in me running home in tears, my thoughts are a mess, my writing is empty, and my paintings are shit. i still have so much of nothing, because so much of something has always been you.

i have attacks every now and then, and i really feel like i'm going to die. my bones rattle, my hands shake, my stomach churns, i puke and cry, and feel empty. and you know, the friends, they worry, i think sometimes. and they ask me if i'm alright, and they tell me to talk about how i feel. but i can see it in their eyes, and i can hear it in their tone, they're sick of hearing me talk about the same thing. so i just smile, and say im fine, and i laugh and make a joke.

and everything's okay for a little while.