A Long, Slow Death

I get waves of missing you. Days go by, sometimes even weeks, and I’m ok. Until all at once, I’m not. I’m crushed beneath this tidal wave of emotion and I’m drowning under the weight of all the things I cannot say.

I feel like a stranger in your world, a visitor, and my time is up. I have to go home now. But for so long, you were home, and now I’m lost with nowhere left to go. 

I fear that we will blend into the background of each others’ lives, until I can’t even see your face, or distinguish you from the cacophony and chaos of a life lived too fast. Or worse, that we become like ghosts, going through the motions but not feeling a single goddamn thing.

I’m scared. Of not loving you. Of loving you too much. I’m scared of becoming irrelevant. But most of all, I’m scared that I’m never going to know what it’s like to not feel lonely.

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