Happiness and laughter use to fill the void in my heart where love should be, and I never had a worry in the world.
You respected me enough then to let me know where you were and when you would be around again, but communication turned to my own ignorance, except of your design.
Our "I love yous" were like clockwork, we knew when they would be said and how often, but they began escaping our mouths less and less until it was uncertain when they would be said again.
Instead of being affectionate when we could be, the distance between us became larger in scale, and we may as well not touch at all.
Would our embrace hurt like being served a 3rd degree burn? How wrong it all began to feel almost suggested so, but instead, the empty feeling I have while standing by you says everything.
Commitment morphing into disaster, romance transforming into resentment, and I crawl into my bed at night wondering what went wrong.
The sad thing is, I had it all planned out in my head. I had created a new folder in one of the best destinations of my memory and titled it "Our Life."
Unfortunately, nowadays that file is not found and I struggle to accept the deletion of such fond ideas.
Perhaps my creativity has dissipated, but I consider myself an artistic being so that can't be.
Perhaps my memory is corrupt or I never saved my thoughts in the first place, but I memorize material like a straight A student studying for an academic decathalon therefore the possibility does not exist.
The scenarios play out in my sore, overworked mind until the correct one makes a connection...
And I know that the next time you leave, you won't be coming home.