Let's draw a line between us
Paint a map back to the start
Leaving footprints to remind us
Where you go, I'll go
And if you fall, I'll fall

There are days that are definitely harder than others, and it's almost impossible to predict when I'll be hit. By sadness. By blackness. By an overwhelming sense of loss that is stronger than anything I've ever felt before. The tears come, suddenly and out of nowhere, triggered by any number of things. A half-smile on someone's face, a domed ceiling at a bus depot in Boston that reminds me of an airport in Alabama, a beloved song that brings you to mind... the approaching evening when I would normally have looked forward to hearing your voice and instead have silence as my companion. I feel the loss of you with a sense of desperation, longing to cling on tightly but with nothing to hold onto. I have nothing tangible of you - I never did. Just memory, and feeling, and an insane desire to be your safe place even though you've never been mine.

But I don't know if you even need a safe place. I don't know what you feel, if you're even sad. I don't know if you miss me, or if you love me still, or if you ever did. I don't know if you've already moved on to the solace of someone else's arms. Is there any part of you that feels lost? That feels as though the ground has been pulled out from under you? Do you feel like some integral part of you is missing? Do you wish you could hear my voice, even just one more time? Or was it easy for you? You don't know how often I wish it was easy for me, how much I wish I could say it was any easier today than it was three weeks ago - but it isn't. I lie to myself, every day. I tell myself that I just need to get through one more day. My phone buzzes and I check it immediately, hoping. Hope. Hope is probably the most painful thing in the world right now.

Hope that our last kiss at the airport wasn't our last kiss ever. Hope that the tears of grief I shed knowing I wouldn't see you for a month are not now being shed to cover a lifetime. Hope that I'll see your goofy smile again, or hear you rub your hands in excitement, or feel your hand in mine as we walk somewhere. Anywhere. I would have walked into hell with you. I have walked into hell for you. I don't know how you could ever honestly believe that I chose someone else over you, interpret my defense of a friend as anything against you. Did you ever know me at all?

All those times you asked if you could keep me. All those times you told me that you just needed me to know that you loved me. All those times you said that you believed in me. But you're always the one who walked away. You have never fought for us. Not once. You would talk like we had a lifetime, but did you ever really mean anything that you said? Or were you just offering me a story, one you liked to write and play out but which you never intended to publish? I was worried about the risks you'd have to take... but there were none. The only risk was moving here and we never even got that far. We never even got close. And even if we had, there was no risk to you because you know I would never have abandoned you. Looking back, all the risks were mine. Taking you back after you cheated, and after you dumped me for not finding a job fast enough, for having anxiety about us, for reminding you of your ex-wife. Pushing hard for a job I knew would stress me to the breaking point because I was worried that if I left it, you'd leave me. Trying to keep silent about the anxiety attacks I was having constantly because I was worried that the knowledge of them would send you running. Re-homing my dogs to make getting an apartment easier, only to have you turn around and get a dog anyway. Trying to keep this house so that your dog would have a yard to run around in. Telling my children about you because I thought you'd be a part of their life. Flying there to visit you when you were sick because I didn't want to push off meeting you any longer. And I think the biggest risk I took, was believing you. Continuously believing you and believing in you after all the reasons I had not to. And that last risk? I still take it. I still believe in you, and try to justify your actions to my friends and loved ones. I'm either a fool, or I know you - only you know which, and neither helps me. You left anyway.

And I don't know how to get over you. I don't know when I'll stop feeling like I'm only half here. I don't know how to let go of the hope that you'll eventually reach out and that we will somehow fix this. I know it's unlikely, but it's the only hope I have. If you're still practicing your French, or dreaming of Canada, or if you ever need me, you have my number. And from me, that isn't just a line.

And if the sky grows heavy
Wrap your arms around me tight
We'll be alright, yeah
If the ground gives way beneath us
If we should fall to pieces
Find me where I first found you