Sharing Our Innermost Thoughts

You’re hard to love. But that’s gotta be a lie because loving you is like breathing. I can only think about you. Not being able to feel you by my side at night makes it hard for me to rest. But I want the best for you. So I respect the boundaries and space you place between us. I want to help you through your hard times. But you suffer alone and I feel so much weight from all of this distance. I’m watching as you break down and though we’re in the same room, it’s like an impenetrable clear barrier separates us. I wish you believed me when I say, “I’m here for you, no matter what.” And I wish you would let me in. But instead you walk this line, all alone, between barely breathing and giving up. And what if you cross it? What if I never stop being consumed by this need to help you, to heal you? What if I never accept or learn that it’s not my place, nor am I capable, nor is it ok for me to be so cocky? But what if I’m doomed to always believe, or dare I say, hope that my love could help you feel better? What if I decide I don’t want to exist anymore? What if I can’t accept this isn’t about me?