I still don't understand how love can become so painful. I've given him my all—so many beautiful moments, the feeling of being alone. I've told him many times and in many different ways; I've told him bluntly, angry, crying, disappointed, distressed. How it makes me feel that whenever there’s a problem, the first thing you do is walk away from me, leaving me with love in the palm of my hand—a love that spills and spills like drops of tears. Tell me, my love, why are you like this with me when I love you so much? Tell me, my love, why are you like this with me if my greatest fear of starting over with you is that you’d make me feel this way again—and even much worse than before? What am I missing? Is it because I’m not perfect? Is it because I acted like a pet around you—one that comes back again and again, that waits and stays crying when you leave it behind, that shows you the love it feels with tears? I did so much to keep you from breaking up with me that night, and now I wonder, why are you still with me?