It’s so tough to live when you’re torn in half - my love for you divides me like a razor.
I love you. I want you to be happy, to enjoy your solidarity while on this roadtrip. I want you to find peace and joy in yourself, who you are without a crutch. I want you to learn to walk, to run again. I want you to bask in the the beauty of this world and let that be enough. Let it fuel your heart and ignite your soul. I want you to find inspiration in the fading sunlight of evening and wake with the dawn to feel the cool first light of day. I want you renewed and rejoicing in the life you’ve found. I can’t be happy when you’re in pain.
But god, do I want you here. I want you to give up your quest for solitude and find strength in the curve of my arms surrounding you. I want you to need me like I need you, to ache for my touch and yearn for the way I clumsily string words together. I want to be your strongest source of laughter. Your lamppost in the coldest wood. I want to be the beacon light shining home. I want you to feel my ache in your gut, to know the horror your words have left in the cavity of my chest. I want you to see how you’ve yanked my heart out and are still dragging it carelessly behind as you run away. I want you to lose sleep because you know I’ve lost my way. I want you to come running back to me and hold me close, remember the years you spent alive in my hands. Remember the beauty of the canvas we painted with our love. I want you to remember your promises and the life you gave me. I want you to soothe my aching voice screaming in the black of night and whisper that it’s okay, you’ll never leave me again. I want you to take my pain and carry it just like I never wanted to be here now.
I’m torn in half - warring with myself for who I think is more important - me or you. And the problem is that it should be me, but I’m happier when it’s you.
In response to making him tell me he loves me through the persistent baring of my soul.