I should be sleeping. Instead, I am awake wondering about things I can't control. The first of which, is you.
Stuck in a limbo-hold between love and hate:
I feel neither.
I don't know how you'll react, if you'll react. And maybe this is the problem.

Remember me? That little glimmer of something you saw some-time ago...sitting in an alcove, all pretty-like, or so you said. I was the one that got away--from everybody else, and yet you still managed to hold on, long enough to keep me ensnared. So what now?
Have you forgotten already? So soon after those empty promises that shattered on some cheap linoleum floor--not mine.
Your mouth says you remember, but that is all. And every day your whisper is a little bit quieter--though I wonder if it's me that's moving away.
I don't believe you. Not anything you say. If it is true, I marvel at it's veracity, then caste it aside. If it is false, I only wonder at how you think I couldn't know...
I remember a feeling, a nice one, from such a while ago...some time when my smile was real and yours wasn't so far off...some time when laughing was my favourite pastime--though I wonder if that too was as real as it felt.
Where has the world gone? In all its swept up glory--those rainy day promises kept in a jar while the desert took its toll.
Did anybody hear the glass break when we smashed it on the tile and ran for the coast...did anybody step on the shards when they were looking for our remains, now sodden in the dampening dark--
go home, somebody yells over the sound of the waves crashing on the beach--I am, at least in my mind, from time to time.
But you...you don't unravel like the rest. You play games with our heads--we're just pieces on the checkerboard (nobody likes chess)...and maybe you're right.
But every once in a while, it probably wouldn't destroy the odds to think that today, in this battle of where we are going in love lost or unfound--
perhaps, you are wrong.