It's a tuesday evening, I haven't had dinner but I am still on percocet. I had a great day despite my urges to go sleep on the floor all day. I was reading a book earlier this evening and as a result, I fell asleep. I started dreaming about Houston, suddenly, I woke up. I started crying and thinking of 'what if'. I decided to take a shower and take out my frustrations there but it didn't work. I miss him, and I am worried about him coming back.
What if he doesn't want me as much as I long for him? What if his love for me is gone? What if he doesn't accept the changes and decisions that I've made for myself? and worst, what if he comes back, but not to me?
I started questioning myself if I still know what love is. So I'm going to try and convince myself that I do.
Love is what makes my heart beats faster, it moves my soul into a different dimension that no one else knows about. It's what makes me feel that I belong to this world and that I truly matter to someone. Love is seeing beauty in a blank space, hearing serenity in silence and holding life itself through a person's hand. Centuries are minutes when it comes to love. Love is him. He is all I could think of. His beautiful smile that comforts me, the last moment we hugged before I had to go, the tears in his eyes that he tried to hide, the road trips that he'd let me drive, the short naps I took on his lap, his birthday, the day I tried on a wedding dress, his proposal, everything is just rushing in my head. I have no idea when he's coming home. I just know it's soon. I can feel it. And when he does, I'd never let him go.
I should eat ice cream.
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