She doesn't want me to wish her

It’s not because I don’t miss her…

I’m a jerk when I’m pissed. I lie to everyone but she knows that.
It was crazy enough for me to open up, let alone have someone feel the same pain I felt. Literally.
Pain, you’d never let that ‘someone’ even know about because your heart would fall out of your chest before words from your mouth.
Unbearably so, pushing away is the easiest thing to do.
She would know.

Days, like toxic clouds, drift slow and listless in her absence.
Decaying the world your mind built to make reality a little more tolerable.
The bunny dies in this story. Cupid needs AB- transfusion, stat.
The arrow is rusted and withering. Love is gangrene.
It eats away until you are consumed by it, becomes what you used to be.
Then one day, you don’t recognize yourself and you think a check up is in order.
But the doctors can’t figure out why she won’t see you.
“Love isn’t treatable. I’m sorry, you’re going to die.”

Gotta love the irony, the thing that makes you want to live can kill you at any time, any place, any how.
There’s nothing you can do about it.
Can’t even force a tear for the wrong reasons, let alone right.
She’d be furious if I said, “she was with the wrong guy,” again.
She’d get mad and tell me that I’m with the wrong girl, just to spite me.
Revenge is love, too.
I could list a million reasons and they would all mean more to her than they do to me.
Words may never be strong enough to pierce me. Yet, she is.
She loves to talk about it. I can’t find words.
I babble like a retard. She’d never know.

Living is hell. Breathing is pain.
Every waking hour draws more suffering from this.
This, self loathing solitude cum apathy, is beginning to rot on my skin.
I reek of hate and misery. The kind that doesn’t like company.
This is ‘the great escape’ psychiatrists warn their patients about when they vacuum their wallets.
This is my home, with picture frames of my past and present hanging on the cardboard walls.
No wind here to blow my mind. Just, dead calm.

It’s not because I don’t miss her that I respect her decision.
It’s because she wanted it just like I want it every year.
I don’t even know why I want it.
Probably not for the same reason as she does this time around.
I hope it’s wonderful, though.
If there is anything in the world I want, it’s for her to get everything she wants.
She’s my everything. She forgets that, a lot.
She doesn’t want me to wish her, but I’m a stubborn bastard and a coward.
I hope she has a beautiful day and an amazing year to look forward to.
I love her more than she’ll give me credit for.
I’m a dick, who always misses her and wants to kiss her every chance I get.
Happy birthday.