It seems rather odd, that you are choosing to leave,
and I do not understand why you are going,
or what are your plans,
and you gave barely any warning to me,
and now my heart is filled with uncertainty,
and I love you, but you say, you need time out,
and I wish I knew why, but all I can do is sigh,
and I fear the worst, because to me,
it is a foreboding feeling,
and it feels as if it could be,
the calm before the storm,
the calm before the heartbreak, and the separation,
oh, the anxiety, the terrible anxiety,
not knowing whether we will still be,
whether we will still be us,
whether we will still be we,
or whether we will be just you and I,
and all I can do is impatiently wait,
wait anxiously for you to return to me,
wait anxiously for your decision, if there is any,
and if there isn't, then there will only be that difficult,
continual uncertainty,
and that reality,
and the possibility,
that our relationship will always be,
on the edge of a precipice,
and that you blow hot and cold,
frequently about me.
