They cried, a cry that could not have been heard, only felt with each grasp my lips took at his. It wasn’t fair, still isn’t fair, that I feel this way towards him. Sometimes I blame myself, no, I blame myself every time the notion pops into my pretty little head. I pressed my lips harder with each time and I longed for more. That is just the thing though, isn’t it? The one thing I longed for, was irreplaceable, non-returnable time. I scold myself for believing my lies at the beginning, that I could control myself; that I could go about this god forsaken thing short of a relationship and not care about him. I do. And I cannot help looking forward, to get to rest my head on him once more, to hear his voice and to see him smile. To hold a loved one’s hand and to embrace them, is an opportunity most take for granted. Oh the agony I would willingly put myself through, to spend just a few hours with him. In any case, any agony would be child’s play in comparison to the feeling I feel every single day I am here, and he isn’t. I am supposed to be having the time of my life, and do not get me wrong- this isn’t completely horrific, but I feel more like Plath than I should. I’ve never really written so openly about myself and I don’t even think I could articulate these words in person if I had to. Somehow writing it all down makes me feel a whole lot better but that brings up my question, how would I feel if I just said it?