When there isn't much left to look forward to, everything blurs together. Time seems to slow down, and the days seem longer. Emptier. That space is filled with meaningless things. The nights seem darker, and they stretch on forever. Maybe that's one of the things I miss so much. Something to really look forward to; plans and dreams to be excited about.

Sure, there's still plans. Just nothing like what I thought they'd be. And there are still dreams. Or at least desires (although they seem more and more apathetic by the second). But they aren't shared. There's nobody to talk about them with or to get excited with. And that is what really sucks, at this moment in time.

But more than that, the fact that it seems like I'm the only one feeling like something beautiful is dead. I'm the only one that misses it or us or him. Yet again, I'm the one that's been compromised, effected, upheaved. I put everything in, and lost it all again. I lost it.