My dearest Queen of Pain in And here we go.

I miss you in between turning pages when I’m reading. I miss the hum of your bare feet on the floor around me, I miss the warmth of your presence illuminating the room with that soft glow you radiate, specially when you’re lost in your thoughts. We can sit quietly together endlessly and charge each other’s batteries per se.
This could be us, if you were here. If you were even real, I wonder.
I’m not lying on a bed of nails, twisting and turning tiring myself out, this exhausting sorrow.

I’ve become like Sisyphus, endlessly pushing this rock uphill, a strange comfort in the lie that it will end, I will throw the rock off the hill, you will come back, everything will be alright. But it never happened, it will never happen, the rock rolls back down, and the cycle will begin again every morning, every waking moment of my life.
There were others before you, but they weren’t a comfort, they were a lie and a compromise, they were who was there, available, I had no real desire to be with them. I just wanted to live out the precious moments with someone, ruining and running through all the lovely moments, wasting them over filthy liars and cheaters. Mono, she absolutely hated the idea of me being happy and I was head over heels for her. Her existence was extremely corrosive for my feelings. Valk was a mess of her own but she was honest with me, and I was a fool, a fool I must admit. Valk had a giant shadow and primal needs that I could never deal with. She chose to break all contact with me, which I understand.

Tell me can you hear me I’m calling
Tell me you can hear me, don’t cry
Tell me that you’re not feeling lonely
Somewhere in between where and why

Like a fool I wait awaiting your return. You promised to return, much like Have I been a fool to wait for you all these years? You promised to return, and I clung to that promise like a lifeline. I wait and I wait, and years have passed by. I always imagined you were watching from the shadows, too hesitant to reveal yourself.
I still check messages and comments so many times a day hoping there will be a ding and you’ll be back. Hoping that I refresh this page and there will be a comment from you. It hasn’t happened. Its almost 5 years now. It hasn’t happened.
I am a hopeless fool because I have no other form of love, or the will to be loved in real life by someone. Am I even capable of reciprocating love? True love? Not doing things because one must do such things. A loveless pathetic life, dead bedroom and even deader emotions?
First, I was worried because you left so abruptly. Then, the pandemic struck, and I was scared for you. A year later, anger set in. then I was depressed for three years straight. Depression had a grip on me, wrapping around my feet and my heart, and the melancholy song of loneliness and despair was strangely beautiful.
Now I’m back to anger because you were a comfort I believed I deserved, and in saving you I was salvaging the remains of my sanity and you were a happy place. Warm, comforting and safe. For the first time I started to care about the end and death. Getting old, growing old, alone.

And if I only could
I’d make a deal with God
And I’d get Him to swap our places
Be runnin’ up that road
Be runnin’ up that hill
Be runnin’ up that building
Say, if I only could, oh

I will wait until you return, or I find the next broken person that needs fixing and consumes all my time, emotions and drains all my feelings into their pit of despair. A purpose for my life that only wants to give and give until I have nothing left to offer.