woes

I can't even begin to tell you how badly I'd like to booty call you.  I miss you so incredibly much. There are still tears that well up and threaten to drop. Sometimes they spill over.  It's almost been 3 years since I met you, and 2 years since you last loved me. How could my heart be so full even still for someone that only was in my life for a year? Your birthday is next Sunday. I wish I had a magic wand that could cure your heart, your head. I still pray for you consistently.  How has nothing changed? How can you still be fighting that same fight, over and over and over again?  Remember when you shared your first battle with me? Remember how you let me help you fight? Remember how you didn't resist the help, and could see the fight from different eyes, and you won that battle? 
There is part of me that is glad I don't have to fight you for you every day, but I also feel like I would have won. You would have learned to trust my love, because somehow it never dies. 
There is the person you want to be, the person you know you were created to be. Why won't you step out and be that person? Why do you tell yourself that it's okay to not be?  Why won't you accept help? Why won't you try different things to help you fight your demons? 

I look at my life and I just wonder why. Why is there no one else? There has been little moments of guys interested, but they've only been moments. As though they exist merely to help me stay sane myself, to not view myself as someone unattractive and unable to draw the attention of a man. But no one stays interested. And it's not as though I put out, I don't. I can't. And it's not that they know that either. Well, some of them do, but they were asking for something I was unable to give. NSA arrangements.  No one interested in me for me.
You were such fleeting moment in my life. So there is no reason for me to think that you ever truly loved me. Because if you did, wouldn't you still? Or  am I a love killer?
I'm going to be 33 this year, and I feel like my love story is over, before it ever had a chance to begin really truly in earnest. I don't get a happily ever after, and I'm sad about that. 
And see, that's the strangest thing of all. I'm okay. I'm not blissfully happy, I'm not depressed. I'm sad, but I'm okay. It doesn't consume my waking thoughts to an extent that it would monopolize my life. It's just one of those facts of reality.
But then there are days, days like today when my body craves a man. When my soul just misses you, how connected, how in tune I felt. You are and quite possibly always will be the best thing that ever happened to me.  For better or for worse.