same same

I love you the same. Just as much. Just as deeply. Just as completely. I just try not to think about you anymore, because when I do I can't make sense of how we could lose what we had, how you could not want it - me - us (we were extraordinary!) - anymore. And I can't face what it means about me (the horrible person I must be for you to loathe me now as you do) and my future (bleak).

I'm exhausted from the nagging distress of worrying and wondering how you are (please, please be OK).

So I just push the thoughts away as quickly as they come.

But nothing changes the way that I love you. Instinctively. Involuntarily. Inevitably. And, I suspect, eternally.

Same same, always.

broken hearted

still.

and still

my devastation is deep, unrelenting