Message sent. Message sent. Message sent.
Frustration begins to rise and desperation begins to reek.
You can scroll up or you can scroll down, but all you'll find is one sided conversations.

One sided conversations cause you won't reply but it's been six months of silence so I guess that's fine

I'm still missing you. I often wonder if I miss you because I really do or because that's what I've become accustomed to. It's all I've done for 8 months. Maybe missing you is my hobby. Maybe it's time I do something else.

8 months have passed and I still miss you. It's getting easier though. Our song played today and I didn't cry. Should I be worried?

I will love you through the pain.
I will love you through the silence.
I will love you even across galaxies.
But to what cost?
How destroyed do I have to be for you to come back?
How drunk do I have to get until the hole in my chest disappears?
How high do I have to get until you're lost in the smoke?
But even then,
I will love you through the pain.
I will love you through the silence.
I will love you even across galaxies.
But shouldn't it have gotten easier?
Shouldn't I have been able to hear our songs without crying?
Shouldn't I have been able to hear your name without wincing?
Shouldn't I have been okay after eleven months of one sided conversations?
But even then,
I will love you through my pain.
I will love you despite your silence.
I will love you even across the galaxies placed between us.
I will love you because I do not know how to stop.

Missing you is like putting a gun to your head to finally end it all
but only to find out the bullets have been taken out
when you try to pull the trigger
And that's when the hole in my chest gets bigger
But loving you, oh
loving you was a benediction
almost as severe as an addiction
And hating you, well,
that never quite worked out
I could never muster up enough disdain,
even through all the pain
But loving you, oh
loving you was like getting caught in the rain
only to splash in the puddles
And missing you is like
picking a rose only to get pricked by its thorn
But loving you, oh
loving you is like knowing you shouldn't walk barefoot on broken glass,
but doing it anyways.

I'm free. I don't miss you anymore and I no longer have you in the form of the ache in my chest. It feels so good not to miss you. After ten months of hell, I came out alive. I don't regret the three years of life we shared, but I'm glad that all the agony is over. You don't know how good it feels to finally write about you without crying. You don't know how good it feels not to miss you, how good it feels to go the entire day without thinking about you. I had this constant hope that you would come back and that very hope ended up destroying me, but it's done; it's over. I can finally say your name without wincing. It feels so **** good to finally be free. You were my first love and you helped shape me into the woman I want to become, but it's a relief to have gotten through those dreadful ten months. You may never know the hurt you put me through, but I hope that you never come across such misery. I've decided to write my farewell so it can act as a symbol of ending a chapter I once hoped to never end. I have loved you with such intensity, and perhaps I always will, but I am no longer in love with you. It was not what I wanted at first, but it was what I had to do. I am thankful for the impact you made in my life. You came when I needed you most. I cherish what we had, but it is time to bid you goodbye. I will always wish you nothing but happiness and, as cliche as this sounds, you will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you for the love you gave and thank you for the pain you (unintentionally) caused. I have loved you, Christophe Andrew Brandon Rithmisto, but it's time I don't.

Your skies don't have to be so grey. Your lips shouldn't tremble the way the clouds do every time they're about to give way. Darling, you don't have to be so lonesome anymore.

Stop using your wrist as violins and the knife as your bow. Your symphony shouldn't be so morbid. The notes you're trying to produce aren't the ones you're longing for.

Isolation is so bittersweet. You build your walls to watch them crumble in the way the mountains seem to bow every time the earth begins to throw her fit. But somewhere along the crashing of your empire, you enjoyed the free fall that engulfed your being. You got so lost in the chills produced along the back of your neck that you forgot about the inevitable. You forgot about the force in which you were falling and soon enough you weren't able to distinguish the shards of your heart from the rubble.

You really messed me up, you know that? You cut me to the core and you don't even care. You used to find any way possible just to talk to me and now you haven't said a word to me in 3 months. You've completely disappeared and the funny thing is that I didn't even know you were a magician. I didn't know I was just a part of your act. You see, I never had you figured as that type of guy and I still don't, in a sense, but how else is this stunt you've pulled supposed to look? We were in love. Or at least I was in love. And I wish I could be angry at you. I wish I could paint you as some cruel man but my heart won't let me. I know who you truly are. You let me in and I saw the depths of your soul and I guess that's why I can't ever play you out as the bad guy. I want to believe you have a reason for not responding, that there's some valid reason for your absence. I want to compare you to your father but as much as I want to, I can't. I can't do that because you're nothing like him; you'll never be. I want to see you in such a cruel manner that I begin to just despise you. I want to hate you. I want to. But I can't. I can't and that's what kills me. I still see you as my moon. Do you still see me as your sun?

Five months and you're still everything I want.
Five months and I drowned myself with liquor and clouded my brain with smoke.
Funny how you stopped drinking for me but now I'm the one drinking because of you
Funny how the only trips I took were road trips until you went and disappeared.
Five months and I'm scared it will only progress.
Five months and I'm scared I won't be okay.

I just want to be numb again. I just want to be numb again. I just want to be. I want to be. I don't want to be. I don't. I just. **** it. I don't want to be anymore. I don't. I don't. I want the easy way out. I want to chase life's exit door. I want to push and shove life's exit door. I want to exit. I want an exit. Please. I just want to leave. I've never been good at staying. I learned from my father. My biggest fear. I'm just like him. I want to leave. I need to leave. What's the point of staying? That's always been so foreign to me. What's it like to stay anyway? It doesn't matter though. I'm glad at leaving. Well not so good apparently because I've been trying to leave since I was a kid. Since middle school actually. I guess I'm exactly like my father. Always leaving but never man enough.

Let the ocean be your metaphor.
Let the waves symbolize your nature.
There's still so much more to you than we know.
The depths of your soul are what I want to explore.
There's just so much majesty within your shores.

Maybe you'll always be a fresh wound and maybe I'll always keep picking at it.

You always thought you weren't worth it, but I always knew you were.

10:50 p.m. and this is when it hits. This is when the tears streaming down my face know no end. This is when the ache in my chest begins to dig deeper. This is when the reality of your absence becomes so vivid and tangible. Isn't that something? I can feel your absence. Your silence cuts me to the core but I keep insisting, I keep trying to reach out to you knowing well enough you won't respond but hoping, wishing you'd take the time to remember what we once shared. I thought I would be okay, but I'm not.

They asked me about you today and I swear I almost said, "I'm asking for him too." It's been months, in the realm of time but years in the realm of my heart, since the last time we spoke. I don't understand your absence. I don't understand the silence you've left me with. You said you were almost out of that hole you were in. You said you were fine.
I thought we were fine. I'm left dumbfounded. I'm left with the memories that we had. I'm left. That's it. I'm left. I'm all there is when it comes to the story of us. Maybe I should stop saying that. Maybe I should stop referring to our relationship as "the story of us" cause quiet frankly there's nothing left to be said. There's no story to be said. There was a beginning but there was never a written end. Maybe that's what kills me. Maybe it's the fact that we may have came to an end but there's no words to confirm what I feel. Maybe that's what I need; confirmation. Or maybe I'm just hoping that you'll reply, that maybe you'll miss me enough to see how I'm doing and if life's been treating me well. Do you ever wonder about how I'm doing? Do I ever cross your mind? Does it ever occur to you that I'm longing for the time when you reply to me? Do you ever think about how your absence affects me? I think about you. I tried not to at first but then slowly you started creeping in the back of my mind. Then soon enough you became a thought I wanted to ponder on. You became a part of my life again and you didn't even have to try. I'm bound to you and I used to think that was a good thing. I used to think we had a connection strong enough to withstand anything. I say 'used to' because I'm not sure that me being bound to you is a good thing anymore. I'm afraid to admit that you've became toxic to me again. And maybe it's not the way I want it to be, but that's the way it has come to be and I just need to accept that. It may take some time but I will until the day you come back to me and say you miss me too. Until the day you ask about me. Until the day you come back.

Your skies don't have to be so gray. Your lips shouldn't tremble the way the clouds do every time they're about to give way. Darling, you don't have to be so lonesome anymore.

I have this bad habit where I think about how much I miss you so I cry myself to sleep

THREE YEARS LATER AND YOU'RE STILL THE HEARTBREAK I TALK ABOUT