My Love.

Everyone keeps telling me to cheer up. That this is a new beginning. That everything happens for a reason and sooner or later this will pass over. That's a bunch of crap and everyone knows it. Rachel Clark was easily the sole person that could see past all the bullshit in me and got to know the real me. And she accepted me.

Rachel was and still is my other half. Opposites attract for a reason. Everything I'm not she was. She's like this little package of perfect that God sent down for me. She's the one that kept me on track and the one I work for. People ask me why I'm doing finance as my major. I used to tell them for my parents. But I've quickly realized that it isn't for my parents, not at all. It's for her. I know that she's going to become something great, and if I expected her to stay with me then I had to become something myself. I wanted to make her proud.

Ever since last Sunday (1 1/2 weeks ago), I've been a wreck. Anyone can see that. I've been a walking zombie on campus. I talk to no one. I have to force myself to talk the little amount that I do. I have to force myself to eat. I can easily say I haven't had a full meal in a while. I have to force myself to go to bed at night and wake up the next morning. Simply put, I want to die. I never truly knew what people meant by the saying "my heart hurts." Boy, do I know now. I would never, in my darkest days, wish what I feel upon even my greatest of enemies. This feeling is horrid.

The weirdest part is, the feeling doesn't hurt so much when I talk to her. But she refuses to talk to me. And for every moment she doesn't talk to me, the more and more this darkness within me is settling in. Ironically, in my psychology class we're talking about how heartbreak and stress can cause heart attacks and death in young men. Sometimes I call her just so I can hear her voice on her voicemail.

I had my mind set that I would drive home today, even though it was six o'clock. But Tommy convinced me otherwise. I just can't go on without talking to her. And she just doesn't realize how badly it's killing me. I feel so helpless because the only means of communication I have with her are via text and phone call. Those are easily ignorable. What do I do? Call it quits? Definitely not. I can't give up on her. As silly as it sounds, I truly full-heartedly believe (still) that she is the one and that I will marry her someday. Call me crazy, but it's true.

The thoughts I used to have two years ago are back in full force. And they are showing no signs of giving up. For those of you that read my poem, that was me sitting on the bench. That was me hoping someone would come up behind me and make me happy. Every morning I wake up, with the hope of going to sleep and never having to wake up ever again.