I used to think it was that I didn’t love her enough if there is such a thing, and now I know that it is that I love her more than myself enough to sacrifice my desires and wants to appease her own. In a way I’m haunted by all the love I feel for her, stretching out through miles like the space between two people that is only measured in breaths. Suppression is key and so it only comes out in the briefest of moments when I am too drunk to control my heart. It trickles to the surface like a burst of electricity searching for the moment to unleash itself to make its territory known. It is no wonder I’ve never quite been able to move once my heart fell for hers it was destined to stay that way. I can live with the emptiness of regrets, of the ugly horror that came later in life with people who I couldn’t love to certain degrees – and most of all I can live with the idea of her and I never, ever being together – because in a way it’s what I deserve what I have to live through. It is part of my love map.