Just, please don't say you love me, cause I might not say it back.

I'm not supposed to miss you.
I'm not supposed to feel like I'm walking around with half of me gone.
I'm not supposed to hope for a word from you.
And I'm not supposed to realize that my heart is still forever, with you.

The architect tendency in all of us.

We all have these scenarios we've made up in our heads. Conversations with some person that we had drawn like an architect. It never usually goes to plan. It rarely ever does.

I still wish.
You'd appear.
You'd say, "Are you done?"
Done with freaking out about things you can't control? With all your tantrums, the bad things you allow seep into your mind?
Are you done with running away? With trying to make yourself numb so you won't feel a thing? Are you done with being so scared of feeling more than you allow yourself to? With ripping your heart out?
Are you done trying to be alone? When you always need someone? Are you done acting strong? Though it's wearing you out?
Are you done hurting me? Like I've hurt you?

Are you done?
Will you just come back to me now?