It's going on almost a month now. No drowning in sorrow or self pity or gorrow. Still I can't help wanting to tug at your heartstrings and YOUR wanting. There is something so beautiful in being in your bed,  in your arms. While i cry.  You wanting to hold me but afraid to,  me wanting arms I can fight against. A punching bag, that's what it is. What i look for in you. I'm putting us in the dark. I don't know why you ever liked me in the first place. Do you still? Did I ruin it all with my honesty. With my emotions.  With my whole self. I told you I was too much.