I feel unhinged lately, a soft broken feeling in my heart that dissects itself deep inside my soul. I miss her so much sometimes it becomes a great gnawing in my body, reaching right down to my toes and although it was one kiss I was left with a long time ago it inches its way forward in my memory. It is right to say I’m hungry for her once again my heart is burning for her. I want to tell her she’s my muse, that I’m writing again – that I’m writing about her snippets of poetry lay everywhere. I suppose writers are always right about love that loving someone every day of your life is an act of faith you awake every morning knowing you will love the same person. I can’t break it down in my head anymore except that I wish we could turn back the clock to when she would call me at 10:00 in the morning, just to wake me up and hear my voice. I remember the way my head laid against the pillows, and how the light streamed in my window. I cry a little sometimes, randomly when no one can really ask why I am crying – at a movie, at a song, at a story – sometimes I’m just crying for all the chances we never had. For the love that hasn’t been buried. All these years, all these years half together and half apart – half obstructed and all I want to do is find a way to be together. I don’t let it consume me but it is forever in my thoughts. There must be something to the fact that we have never really parted, that there has never been a real coffin on our love. I love her. I think sometimes we could go back and do it differently although not back in time but that we could feel all those feelings we felt at the beginning. There is still so much passion between us. I’m afraid to admit it, afraid to say it aloud but I wish for us. I wish for us to fall together, and never fall apart again. She has always been my one constant. I want to tell her what I think. I just don’t know how. I feel like there is not enough time and that it is always stirring around us like a leech. I want her and I want to make it more real than it’s ever been.