I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways

"Imagine meeting someone who understood even the dustiest corners of your mixed-up soul."

We thought we'd found this. It began with rain and cold; squeals and tears in the middle of the night, followed by a traditional gypsy excursion with surreal topics of conversation. The days blur together with an overshadowing atmosphere vibrating with you and your joy. Those reactions were natural and easy; how were we to know that it would come to this?

I think of you when I wear soccer socks and sweat pants: the dance parties and the cuddles, warm tears from opposing ends of the emotional spectrum, pasta and stir fry, voices in the darkness. We shared moments of perfect, moments of contemplation, moments of hope, moments of fear. And now, despair beats lives against the boulders of 'unfair'. So much promise, so much pain.

What cruel joke is this? Abuse of the heart; there is only so much heartbreak a person can handle. No matter how tough she is, the pressure will get to her and her efforts to disguise her tears will no longer be enough. You weary soldier, take rest with me. I wish I could protect you.

"so was it fate that brought us together only to remind us that love's not forever???"



I am so close to f-bombing the shit out of this conversation.

I rage; tearing clothes, pulling hair, and praying hard. It is hard to trust with this delicate situation. What is your purpose in all of this? Give direction. Have pity. Show us the love we've heard so much about...