Save Me, Muse.

After you had gone, I felt like a shell of my former self. All the weight was back on top of my shoulders. The agonising drudgery of an everyday existence stared me in the face. I was beginning to feel afraid that it might stare me down.

I thought I'd hear your voice on the phone, but I had nothing to say to you. You just happen to be so far away. It's unfair how life seems to bring something to you, and you fall for it, believing that it's here forever. You learn to live your life till saturday, and you know, come sunday, that the one thing keeping you from being fragmented into a thousand miserable bits of person, would be gone.

I live with the hope that I'll see you again. Maybe next year. Maybe even the year after that one. It's small hopes like that that keep me going.

I don't know if there is anyway else I can put this, but the fact of the matter is that I love you. No, not the way you think I do. It's pure, unconditional love someone feels for a person just because they are who they are. No, I don't want to 'date' you. I don't want it to be anything more than what we have right now.

I'm in love with you in a very different sense. I'm in love with the way you laugh at me. I'm in love with the way you get excited by strange things in strange shops. I'm in love with the way I can talk to you. I..

What is my point anyway?