It is over. I will tell you that I am to be blamed for everything. I hope to take and keep entirely to myself all the guilt and pain, if there is any at all. I don't like to leave things behind. Do you get what I mean? I will surprise you by saying that I like things a lot better this way. I love it. I feel a great sense of relief washing over me, whereas previously, I felt as though I was tip-toeing on a thin sheet of ice; a thin sheet of ice that was about to shatter very soon and about to swallow me whole in a split instant. If someone makes you feel that way, then just forget it. He will not be affected. He doesn't let himself get affected. This is what I love about him. This is what I love about all my cold-blooded friends. You know who you are. Heh. And what about me? Hmmm... I will be affected, but in a very very very positive and good way! :P See, warm-blooded people survive in their own beautiful way. Haha. We are still friends. We will always be friends. Always. Nothing more. Nothing less. :)

"I know you..."
"You should..."
"Don't..."
"Do..."
"Although I know that you..."
You seem to know me very well.
Very well, you knew me.
You seem to be the one calling all the shots.
Very well, all the shots are calling me.
You said you like me.
Very well, you liked me.

I did not love I do not love.
I do love I love.
I do not know how to love.
I loved not knowing what is love.
I loved not loving loving love.
I am in love and out of love.
I am with and without love.
I am eating love and vomiting love.
I am hitting love and love is hitting me.
I am kissing love and love is kissing me.
I remember love.
Does love remember me?

I love with a single knife.
I love with a single rope.
I love with a single heart.
I love with a single soul.
I love with a single mind.
I love with a single thought.
I love in singleness.
I loved alone.
Your presence was useless.

I love with a single question.
I love with a single answer.
I love with a single sound.
I love without a single sound.
I love with a single beginning.
I love with a single end.
I love in singleness.
I loved alone.
Your presence was worthless.

I love with a single tear.
I love with a single wound.
I love with a single tremble.
I love with a single will.
I love with a single emotion.
I love with a single song.
I love in singleness.
I loved alone.
Your presence was nonexistent.

When you said you did not want to lose me,
I realized that you lost me.
You see, I love in singleness.
I love alone.
Your presence was invisible,
as presences always are.
It breathed only in my imagination,
as a slim soft body with no significance.

I love with secrets.
I love without trust.
I love with blood bleeding.
I love with a hidden knowing.
I love with a grey shade of me.
I love impulsively.
I love in singleness.
I love alone.
There was no such thing as your presence.

I love always feeling empty.
I love always feeling that something was lacking.
I love without singleness.
I love with too much, to love alone.
Your presence was too much,
as presences always are.
It suffocated outside of my imagination,
as a bomb exploding with excellent execution.