Every night I would sit inside of our bedroom and stare silently outside of the window. He was somewhere out in the world. I had no one but him. I left my old life behind to be with him. But now it seems as if we don’t matter… I don’t matter… I am always alone…

What can I do now? I was stuck alone in a deep longing for his love. My heart feels like it’s been abandoned… and it feels so hollow now.

I wander around our condo, waiting for him to walk through the door… Waiting for his perfect smile and that always glowing face that I loved so much… However, in the end, he would barely come home anymore… And when he did, we barely ever spoke to each other or I was already sleeping in our bed.

It was as if we were living two completely different lives whilst living beneath the same roof. He wasn’t the same anymore. And he knew it, just as I knew it. There was always this weird tension between us now that wasn’t ever there before.

I sat on our bed, coolly examining the house phone. I didn’t have a cellular phone, because I was always working from home. I am writer for this really amazing book company. And at the moment, they wanted me to come to New York to work for their HQ, but I refused the offer in order to be with him in my lovesick foolishness.

Looking back on it now, I might actually take them up on that highly appetizing job offer. And move on with my life if he really doesn’t show me that I still exist in his life… in this life period… somehow… someway.

I can’t help but to wonder if we were ever truly meant to be with each other at all. Or if he is just a simple moment in my life that I need to pass by now in order to help me find myself in the existence. It is in light of these posed unknown truths that my poor lovestruck heart hurts in such a painful manner when I think in this way, but he doesn’t show me anything to try and prove that my brain is wrong. And I stupidly love him too much to just walk out on him now, but if I have to, then I will… because I’m just so tired of being left alone and soaked in my own tears.

I lay upon our bed, waiting for him to finally arrive home. I had decided to read a book in bed as I impatiently wait for him. The book I was reading was about a young woman being in love alone with a young man who deserts her for another woman by the end of it. To which I felt bad for the main girl of the book. I didn’t want something like that to ever happen to me. That would be a painful reality I don't want to experience or that no one else should ever have to live through.

The door to our bedroom cracks slowly open, inch by inch. And I instantly snapped both my head and my focus in the direction of the door to see a pair of familiar brown eyes gazing at me in part. To which they gave the impression that he was tired and he looked really groggy from the lack of sleep.

I smile slightly at him, hoping that he would smile right back at me, but he doesn’t. He just comes in to the bedroom and drops his bag on to the floor. He walked up to our walk-in-closet and began to gather up his cloth