I don't even know what I mean any more.
And for a second there, I thought I saw a flash of a ghost of the boy I once knew. Something in the eyes that reverted back, claiming the original touch of tenderness and care they once held for me oh -so -gently. Whenever I thought of you, my breath became heavy in my chest, I became unfocused, trying to search for something to cast my attention onto, often ending up staring into the dark space between the stars. We were those stars, I just didn't realise how much distance there was between them, and it was growing, so slowly, but ever so surely.
I knew something was wrong the day you knocked all the inspiration out of me, I felt like the rain had washed all my colour away, and metled my thoughts into dust, I felt like a bird without it's song, devoid of the very thing that made me what I was. Once you had filled me with passion, everything I did dripped with you, was stained with you, you were hidden between the spaces in the letters, you were the thin brittle lines that helped keep the the words up and make sense on the page. Now it felt fake and cold, I put nothing of myself into it often growing bored easily. It gave nothing to me, except making me feel nostalgic and hollow.
Your eyes had grown dull again as I let my mind wander, but I hadn't taken mine off them. I could see myself faintly reflected in them, a silhouette girl, still, lost. I looked a mess, the long sleepless nights and the hours lost to careless thoughts had not been good to me, but for the first time since it all started, I felt tired. I wanted to get up and feel the comfort of my bed enveloping around me, the air getting thick as i pulledthe blankets right and my breathing deep and relaxed and I forgot all the worries my heart held. I wanted to do this, but I couldn't. You were talking about some bastard who you worked for and his whore of a wife. I listened to your words, not really talking them in. They seemed hard and rough, you used to talk so smoothly, so delicately. You were so cautious of getting things wrong. I blame myself, I used words so freely around you, you werent used to it and they hit yo so hard and so fast. They scared you. I cannot blame you for that. And when I saw that flash, that shadow, that flicker of the boy I once knew, I could not feel anything but a deep longing sadness, as you continued, as you changed more and more I was stopping, like a jewellery box dancer getting slower and slower and one day, one day soon I'd stop, I could not take it any more. The love of a boy I once knew was killing me. I made you into who you were now, and you were killing me. Bit by bit. Word by word. Ghost by ghost.