It was not your fault, but mine...

I wish I could begin to explain how I feel. At this point it not only seems pointless but impossible as well. It is not only apparent that I miss you its quite obvious. At this point in time there isn't much to do; I suppose there is much to say but I'm going to assume that going that route would not only be foolish, but pointless. Your reaction and response scare me. Okay, that's being modest, they terrify me. Our relationship is slowly fading I can't remember what it feels like to hold your hand. God, what I would do to hold your hand one last time. It saddens me that this is what it has all came down to. Where did we go wrong? Where did I go wrong? Our love now seems non-existent. Like our love was just a mere dream an illusion at best. AND maybe it was. Love isn't supposed to go away and die, right? I always thought that once it was there it was there. But I can tell that it isn't like that and that was just a part of this dream I had. I know I deserve more than this pain, than this feeling of loss, than this feeling of wanting someone who doesn't want me. Because if I'm being frank and I'll be, I want you so bad. Not want you in a way of intimacy but in the most innocent way of wanting someone. I just want to feel the weight of someone laying next to me. Hear the breathe of someone sleeping next to me. I want to be able to wake up in the middle of the night and look at you next to me and just smile. I want you in the most innocent definition of the phrase. But any opportunity for that is gone. Every attempt is either a failure or a let down. I'm sorry for that. I know you tried. But you were right all along. Hanging out is a bad idea. I don't think my heart can handle it. I don't think your heart can handle it. I know I can't handle it. God. What I would give to just hear you say "I miss you". I'm always spilling out my heart. Always. Sorry for all of the wrong I have done. I hope your sorry. I feel that being with me has made you lose all opportunity at living through your twenties. Maybe I robbed you of that and this is your chance of getting it back. I watch other 22 year olds and they're sleeping around, getting drunk, and having fun; maybe the commitment I want is too much for you. Too intense. I've died a thousand times inside. Know this. Believe this. I wish for you every day. every night/