Monday, May 24, 2010

I miss us.

I love that he makes love to my brain; I hate that he causes me so much pain. The pain of yesteryear, the pain of years to come.
I love that I'm the one who piques his curiousity, but I hate this game of reciprocity.
I hate that we started off so wrong, but I love that our bond is so strong. A bond that has seen trial after trial, and remains in tack.
I love that we appeared to have it all, but I hate that a part of me can't recall. Can't recall his touch, his smell, his look, his heart.
I love to see him in her, but I hate that I don't get to see him and her. I see his happiness, his love, his confusion all in her.
Yet, I can't feel him like I use to. I can't feel his pain as deeply; I can't celebrate his triumphs as genuinely; I can't guide him through his mistakes as earnestly.
I just miss how it used to be with my used to be.
Posted by Nik :: 5/24/2010 :: 0 Comments:

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