She's aching again, you feel it in the way your heart tugs, in the way you cannot breathe because it hurts, hurts, hurts. You're vomiting nothing into the toilet, haven't been able to keep anything down for days now. Deep down you know its because you are scared that she too will leap from the pit and wash down the drain. The kind of leaving no one comes back from.
So you're screaming now, hoping that promises of 'always' and 'you will never do this alone' hit home. Yet you have never known an always, just a lot of almosts and you are terrible at letting people in your world because you believe your destiny reads loneliness. But for her you'd be anything, anything at all to know she is here and breathing even if that means becoming something of permanence rather than the leaf in the wind you wrote yourself to be.
So you sit making promises of forever and always for the first time in your life because even though you always have one foot over the edge you'll do anything to get her to take a step back, because you love and she aches, because you love and can't help but feel all her pain.