Losing my religion

I felt it all over again. It was all over me and sticking to my skin like a bad tattoo I couldn't shake it. I couldn't let go of the feeling. I wanted to do bad because I've been here before. I've heard all the words you said and I think to myself "is it really all worth it?" but it really isn't. So I don't tell you that my feelings are gone. I don't feel anything that way anymore. For now you can believe what you want because I don't feel like saying it out loud until you ever ask. Because I cant hide anything from you.

It's not you that hurts me. Its my own heart and stubbornness that does his to me. So I will hardly be here but still ever present in it.

I was there knowing there was something. It was like a 6th sense that I could feel. I could hear it like a voice in my head that I wasn't going to be so lucky. When he looked up at me and told me it had never fully healed I felt a pain in my side. He pressed down when he felt the lump. He looked at me with such a serious concern on his face while she smiled trying to be so reassuring. And all I could think of is, "I can't leave them."

I know the percentages of a second time. I know the risks and the struggle. I know it's a fight and I know I can't say anything till I get the results and again I'm playing another waiting game. It just seems unfair that if I'm not meant for love couldn't I at least have a clean bill of health?

Because I don't have him to hold my hand. I don't have him to kiss my head and tell me it's going to be okay and sometimes having to do this alone makes it so much harder. But if I did with him hating me for it. I can do it by myself. I don't really have a choice this time.

All that day I didn't talk about it. I walked around with the news over my head trying to pretend it wasn't raining down on me. I did pretty well distracting myself. But I didn't want to tell her while she's overseas. I couldn't tell him because he would be too worried and I couldn't tell them because they just never know how to react. He was the next best thing. And my only option. He was there when I needed him. At the oddest hours of the night worried why I would be needing him to call after not talking for a week.

I told him and he gave me the response I knew he would. I just needed to talk about it and he was the only one I trusted for that in that very moment. He talked to me like nothing had happened. We spoke like we had never stopped taking for 7 days. And it almost made me feel like he didn't care. Like he was only able to talk to me like I had been there the whole time because it didn't matter if I was gone or not. But of course that's my dramatics playing tricks on me. As soon as he said he would always be here for me, I knew.

I can't make choices so drastic sometimes. I've come to realize more than ever now that I'm never going to know just how much more time I have and I need to take advantage of the time I have now. Whether it breaks my heart or not at least I would've lived my life fully. Whether he's here standing next to me or not. He was always the one I called.