When I'm with you, it's "us" instead of "me." That's what makes the recent state of things so incredibly difficult. It's hard to explain just how much our connection means to me, particularly since you used to understand it without my needing to explain anything at all. But now, when I paint you pictures, you say you see only imageless color. Where does that leave us?

I'm not even sure which tense to use. It's easier, certainly, for me to believe that you're lying to me to protect yourself, and that our ties to each other are still binding even if they're uncomfortable lately. It's easier to believe because even I don't want a life entirely free from emotional involvement and obligation. It's those connections that make me happy, even when they make me miserable. It's the hope of those connections that motivates me.

Without you, I'm not quite sure who I am anymore. I love you. I miss us.