My darling.

I waited for you. You did not come. I realised at that moment that all was lost. I had nothing to occupy my time apart from the functional misery of waiting for you. The hours come and go, as do you each day. I needed you most then, I could feel the falling. I knew the inevitable event would happen on that night and it frightened me. I tried to stop myself from wailing, shaking and taking. My love, I tried to find my exit in the same way I had before and was disappointed in myself, but desperate to continue the act. I needed you to help my profound loneliness come to the surface. I needed you to indulge my neurosis and help me overcome the stabbing pain in my chest. But you did not come. And I could not wait.

When the begging had been exhausted, and I too had lost all energy to scream, the clouds lifted but hovered over my swollen face. I was calm after breaking down to you. The clouds, they were not heavy with thick rain any more. But they were black as the night and ominous like my being. Would the third time be the success?

I waited for you to accompany me on my journey to the poisons unit. I saw the anger and lack of understanding in your eyes. I knew that this was a mistake. I knew that despite waiting for you, you could not wait for me to become better. You left me there. Your night had been ruined. I could not come back with you.

My love, that night has not ruined us. It has shown to you that what I have been telling you all along is true. I may well have scared you away. You may be polite and stay here for a while and make me feel safe, then you will leave and I shall run after you. I cannot apologise for those clouds that follow me. The sun does not break through for me like it does you.

Love always,
Menina.

Oh, the death of that dream that I knew so well. It flicks behind my eyes; a heavy flamed candle burning the corneas.
I did at one time see the dream come alive before my eyes and that flame bounced, rising and falling into the cosmos. It grasped for the white light of the moon to compliment the gold light of our earthly fires.
Those days were filled with awe but the night has extinguished the bouncing flame; the connection no longer sparks and ignites when we see each others firm countenance, hardened to the obvious pains.
My eyes, no longer, are bordered by love. They have become windows of black leather panes.
Now the flicker of our fire is but a terrible burning that is weaving through my heart and singeing the delicate fruits of my limp organs.