Falling apart...

I am so tired of crying, so tired of feeling like I'm losing my mind.

I hate this house--love doesn't live here anymore, only emptiness, only what was, no promises, no hope, no children in the other room.

Sometimes I curse the moment she walked into my life but then where would I be? Do I appreciate the purpose she served and let go, hoping that such a person longs for me somewhere in time?

Why do I need that?

Because it's all I know, because we all want love if we're honest. Because I want someone to want me, to long for me, to miss me, to hear me, to see me, to feel me, to search through their own time for me.

I went to the doctor today--vitals were good, check-up was good. They smiled as they told me this, as if I should appreciate the health they confirmed for me.

I knew what they didn't, what they have no tools to measure--the vitals they can't possibly gauge are crashing. My soul is sinking, my essence crushed and suffocating under the weight of uncertainty and fear.

My destiny and my future are in danger of never being realized if I can't shake this disease that they'll never be able to diagnose.