I still remember that night you came to me. You let your broken heart on the floor and I picked up every piece. I can hear the rain on the roof, your heart in your chest. God, I was so close. You can't even begin to imagine how hard it was to let my guard down around you.

I let you in. I wanted you to have every part of me, even the parts I obscure and hide, and keep them. I just wanted you. I thought you wanted the same. So I gave almost everything I could to you.

And you never saw anything. You just left it at your door, right where I put it. You didn't even give me a chance. All you gave me was a half hearted goodbye. Maybe you saw. Maybe you saw too much, and didn't want all of it. Maybe you ignored it, I'll never know.

Now I just sit here, waiting, hoping, praying. Maybe someday you'll pick me up and carry me off. Maybe someday you'll acknowledge that which is immersed beneath the depths of my heart, but until then I wait.

I wait in the dark, bereft existence which gnaws at my bones, gripping me with the loneliness and hurt I've feared the most. The sad thing is, after all that's happened, I still want you to keep it. Because you might miss me and all the gifts that remain unopened. I know not now, but maybe someday.