This may be the last time I come here. Here is where I first kissed you. I kissed you that day, you know. I kissed you because I could not help myself. Now again I try to exert control over myself, and I can't.

I try to appear content...and I can't.

I know I look distressed. I feel how my face quivers and my blood feels thin, and I can hardly breathe.

My skin feels dry. I have no power to show something other than what I feel. I a destroyed and even if I tried, my lips would not smile. Instead, I cling to you and make it harder for you.

Leave now. Leave me here looking at the leaves. Goodbye, and if I don't look at you, it may be easier to let you go.