It's hard to know.

It's difficult to guess.

But in my best opinion.

You want this to end.

Six years.

That's how long I've been gone.

Eight years.

That's how long I've known.

I knew how I felt about you.

From the very start.

I finally have you.

But I don't see you that much.

Lately everyone asks what's up with you.

I tell them I don't know.

But they should ask how I am.

They don't see my damage.

They see my "smile" and your frown.

I feel the pain sinking into my skin.

It's scary to think that the one thing I wanted,

Is the one thing that I'll lose.