I'm losing you, and I know it.

You stand closer, your smile beautiful, your laugh beautiful, your whole being in itself, beautiful. I feel like its not for me anymore.

You used to tell me you were grateful for everything you had. The roof over your head. The food on your plate. The family back in Tennessee. The music you make. The millions of fans. Me.

"You, baby."

Me.

Lately it doesn't seem that way.

We don't talk much anymore. Sure, if we have a strange encounter or an epiphany of some kind, we'll ramble to each other first. That's what friends do.

Silly me, I had thought we were more than friends.

When you kiss me, your mind is else where and I don't have to look in your eyes to see it anymore. Your tender touches are forced, your fingertips no longer light with love when it goes beyond friendly affection.

I think you're moving on.

You had come home the other day, slightly drunk and smelling like someone else.

And I think I'm scared shitless.

We used to hold hand, any contact enough, when we were in front of loved ones. Your fingers tight with mine, joined, if only by digits.

You can't seem to do that anymore.

I can't stop crying lately. Every time I look at you, your dark eyes, your bouncy golden curls that sometimes hide the halo I know you have, and realize that something is over, the lump in my throat becomes unbearable, the sting of salty tears cursing me.

Your hands flit over my cheeks, smearing the fallen tears, calming me with solace eyes. I love you. So much.

I tell myself that I don't deserve you. You're on some higher level and I don't belong up there. Especially not with you. Sometimes I believe it, sometimes I don't.

You pull away when I kiss you, remorse in your eyes as you leave, the door obscenely loud in the now dark room. The echo of my own voice taunts me.

I'm losing you, hints dropping like flies, and the worst part of all? I know I am.

-Fin-