Billie Blues

I play Billie when I miss you.
So, in truth, her voice rings through my room and into the hours that never seem to end.
Maybe it's because they don't.
I blow on the record, but only because I saw them do it in a movie once.
I put the needle on, sometimes I move it too far and it scratches.
But sometimes I get it right and Billie serenades me and the way I still love you.
You see, I thought that it would take me half the amount of time that we were together to get over you.
But it's been years inside my heart.
And here I am; loving you just as much as I did on the day you left.
The record spins, even when it's finished playing tunes of what could only be considered broken hearts.
And for some reason, I am so broken.
I am so broken.
Not just because of you, although that is a lot of it.
But because the world seems to spin despite me begging it to stop.
To retrace my footprints in the sand to the moment where I let you walk away even though I knew you didn't want to.
I'm as much to blame as you.
And it seems that I spend far too much time heartbroken.
And I seek too much attention.
I put out a sign that says, "love me" and am met with silence.
I just want to feel the way you made me feel again somehow.
I want to feel the nights I lay next to you, tracing the patterns on your skin and the outline of your eyes.  To lean over and kiss your shoulder while you slept.  To wake up to your face in the crook of my neck and your arm draped over my chest.  You loved it when I was close.
But now, you are everything and far away.
And I can't have you.
I can't have you.
There is no hope in letting go, because I can't do it.
I can't let you leave my being when you are entirely made up of it.
You are the best pieces of me.
And no matter who you're with or who I cry to; that won't change.
Because I don't love my life as much as I love you.
And I need to.