I feel like someone has torn a big gaping hole in my soul. It's the ache that never goes away.

I don't know how to tell her that ten years from now, I will still love you. Oh, I know how, but first of all it would be an incredibly bad idea and secondly she doesn't believe that what I feel is real. Still, this is true. And it will not be an obsession, because I am not obsessed. The thought of you is like the string that holds the beads of my thoughts, of my life, together. Like the beacon of a lighthouse when I am tossed mercilessly on an endlessly storming sea. You may be my favorite color, a color I cannot imagine a world without, but you are not the only color, the only light, or the only thing my necklace is made of.

I would never, never hurt you, never. How can she think that I would ever present a danger to you? That cuts me to the bone.