12.

I was going to be angry in this post. I was going to rage. I was going to be infuriated.

But I cannot.

Its what I think I want. It wouldn't help. I would only feel ashamed.

My day started out alright and slid towards poorly. I shed tears and begged to see a change. The agony of being denied you. We are both suffering and I know this. I should be able to bear this better. Yet I cannot help it. I am the making of the wind that batters this house.

There's just one thing instead ringing over and over in my head.

As desperate as I feel, for the sound of your voice, for the touch of your hand, for the warm embrace. As desperate as I am for you to sing and thing you're terrible when you're not. As desperate as I am for your kiss and kindness.

More than sleeping next to you. More than a hug, more than being held. More than water or food right now. More than sleep. More than a room of ones own. More than all these things, there's just one thing.

I just want to say, I love you.