The Difference

The difference is that this time I've given up. I no longer see us together, your arms around me, your scent on my clothes, your lips on mine.

None of that.

Now I can look at you and be absolutely and completely certain that
We
Will
Never
Be
Together.

I thought it would be easier, that I could look at you and just see my friend, the guy I can talk to so easily who just always makes me laugh and who I've known since I was immature. But this is worse, I think. I can know in my mind that I don't respect your need to be with someone always, I can even think that you have shown again and again that you do not want me to be that someone.

But it hurts.
God it hurts.

I don't know if its the loss of you (in my own mind) or just the growing certainty that no boy will ever want me the way I so desperately want to be wanted.

"Once upon a time I was falling in love,
Now I'm only falling apart.

There's nothing I can do,
Total eclipse of the heart..."

Seems like everyone else is finding their someone who makes them happy. Except me. I'm still the one who's alone always.

I don't even ask why anymore. I just accept that this is the way it is. You will never want me, no one will. That's just the hand I've been dealt. It could have been cancer, poverty, physical torture. But no, I get loneliness, tearing a hole in the very center of me. What happens when the hole gets too wide? Too huge, ripped, and gaping?

What will be left to hold me together?