Here I go again, writing about love, and how it fucking hurts. I try not to fall, and I try to ignore, and I try to pretend that I can somehow live without you. But then I come home to your scent on my sheets and my pillows, and your rings on my bookshelf, and remember how you held me. I remember how you wanted me close to you, how I was on top of you, and you pulled me against you, and can't remember how long its been since I felt like that.
Why do we participate in this dance? Where we act like we don't care about each other. But everytime you hurt, you come to me. And everytime I break down, its you who I want to hold me. It was unexpected. And you know me better than I know myself. How could you let this happen? How could you think that we both wouldn't need each other? That we could wake up in the morning, wrapped around each other and not be completely changed. And how could you not remember that we'll never be what we want to be to each other?