What else can I do....

but wait?


My heart is fully broken, my soul is beyond redemption, even though he looks through me like a piece of stained and broken glass, with no recognition of love in his eyes, I still love him dearly.


I search the house for remnants of his smell, I even smile when I see a hair of his when I clean the house, all these things are slowly disappearing as the days go by.


I still can imagine him around the house, doing what he loves doing, playing music, strumming on the guitar, jumping around and just lying on the floor, thinking and manjaing, or even our mini wrestling sessions.


That night, after I ran to him, and he looked at me, like I was a piece of dirt, like I really meant nothing to him, like I was just a nuisance, it really broke me.


I have to come to terms to it. Despite all the hurting words and things he keeps repeating to me, I still wait here, with so much love in my broken heart. I still love him, with all my soul, which has such a deep wound, that it will never really heal inside, even though it has scarred over on the outside.


What else can I do to let him know that I have so much love to give him and so much that I'd sacrifice to be with him, even the precious hours of my sleep, just to smell him, just to hug him to sleep, just to hold his hand and have him grasp mine back, just to lie down with him, and run my hands over his fuzzy knees, just to sit there in silence and look into his beautiful eyes, and see love shining back at me from them, just to do all those things we know we both love to do, and do them together in our little bubble of love, with that mutual understanding that can only come through tests of time and faith and trouble, that we are so comfortable with each other, and yet, have so many things out there that we can do, new things that we can explore together as partners.


Yes, you, yes YOU. I still love you. 


Goodnight sweetie, my heart is forever parked under that cherry tree in Piggyland. Sir ErnieBernie still hovers around, waiting to ignite those butterflies and pink pigs in your Penguin stomach.