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I miss you and I hate myself for it
I miss you, not you now, but you then. Those were happy times. Before you got sick. I feel disgusted with myself as I say this because I know that love should be unconditional, but I can't keep lying to myself. Your sickness took with it the man I love. I do love the you now, but not as I did the you then. The you then, encouraged me, reminded me that you loved me daily, kept me grounded. The you then never ceased to bore me, or place me in uncomfortable situations. You stood for and with me once, and we became inseparable. Today, we are hanging by a thread and I find myself looking at photos of us from before. The smiles, once genuine, are facades now. I look forward to the day where I can see hope return in your eyes. I can't give up on you, I won't. I'll keep fighting until you no longer need me to. I miss you, always.
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