there's a slight drizzle outside as I sat alone in my room thinking of you. I could'nt help but feel a painful thug reminiscing those times you told me you are hurting. I stopped counting the frequency. I would'nt have minded that I was the person you chose to talk to, had I not been inlove with you.
You keep on telling me how you want the pain to stop, the suffering to end... and that you need me in the process. I always assured you that I will and that I already am. Though it kills me each time you mention her name. Maybe I should have chosen to say something. Maybe I should have told you how I felt. That as much as you are hurting, I am too. I kept my silence. I just could'nt say it when you are there pouring your heart out. I told myself, my time will come, it's just not today, or tomorrow...or the day after.
My heart gets chipped piece by little piece whenever you tell me about her. I catch myself envious, thinking if I would ever come close to meaning as much to you.
I wanted to cry and more than once, have thought of just simply walking away...something I have not found the strenght to do..not just yet. Maybe I am a masochist like that. Though in pain, I try to hold on until I no longer can. Either that's just the way I am wired or you mean that much to me. I would rather stay and hope that one day you will overcome the loss and the heartache, than flee hoping you'd come running after me.
Maybe that's what I am afraid of. That I'll go and you'd just let me with your sad face and the words "I'm sorry..". Whatever it is, or until I find out, I will be here, rooted in place. Ready to give you a hug, or a kiss, or whatever it is that you need..until you tell me you need me no more...or until I get broken to a point where I am ready to walk away..whichever comes first.
