Mournings

I wake up exhausted. I sleep, hoping that a comatose state will be deliverance from my state of longing, but night after night, I toss, my thoughts fixated on nothing but her. The darkness leaves me with nothing but my own thoughts, and in my isolation, I'm left with nothing but dreams.

When I dream, it's always of the same picture, so plain and simple. I am allowed to wake up with her in my arms. That's all. Before I'd open my eyes I can feel her skin against mine, my hands against her body pulling her closer by reflex. Even when she isn't here, I still wake up with the memory of her smell wafting through my head.

Even with all of the hurt though, the memory of every second with her is a blessing. The lonliness will not leave, and I've come to terms with this. I cannot, and I will not give up anything though. Come hell or high water, I'm in this 'till the end.