I am writing,
to stop my fingers.

I'm longing to give my words to that man,
the man that kept my heart
when he walked away.

I want to tell him that I still love him
and tell him that I still need him.
But I want to tell him that he matters so much more to me, than anyone else ever has.

including myself.

I want to tell him that my life without him is misery.
but I would rather have my own life miserable, and know that he is happy in his own,
than to share my misery as I did before.

I can't tell him any of these things.
he asks for space I can't provide.
I have to feel proud of myself that its been a week.

a week since my last unanswered message.
my last attempt at begging for what I know I don't deserve.

the over thinking. constant.

he doesn't love me.
if he ever loved me.
he never will again.

and this hope im holding onto
is suffocating me.