When?
When will you love me?
When will you even look at me?
When will you write to me?
When?
Everything changed since that day…
That damned day, the day when you turned your back on me, the worst thing is you said you'd come back….
But when?
I don't have forever, my mortal body betrays my heart and while I want to stay so desperately there's nothing I can do…
Time comes and goes, I waste another day, wondering, hoping, dreaming, that one day you'll decide to see me again….
I just want to-
I want to hold you, I want to see you smile; I want to hear your voice… But until you return it won't happen, my memories are fading, I am aging, and that scares me, because what if you don't recognise me anymore, or what, though I pray it will never happen, I can't recognise you anymore… What do I do then?
You promised, you promised me that you'd return!
But no.
You have not returned, and I fear you never will return, and I am failing.
I close my eyes and dream of you, I dream of the day you first kissed me, and day when you told me you loved me, I dream of the day when you got down on one knee and asked me to be yours forever…
I dream of that forever, what it could be…
We could have that, we could have forever, you will be mine and I will be yours…
But you have not come back to me, you have left me, alone to wither with my own lonely broken heart, I do not wish to remain in a world that you are not present with me…
I'm tired, and weak, my body holds on with any ounce of strength that it can find, but it cannot hold out much longer.
I fear the nights when my eyes close, for I often wonder about the chance of them opening again, it seems less likely with every passing. When you are with me it did not seem so terrifying that I may die, but without you here by my side, without the comforting thought that I may yet see you… I'm scared.
Perhaps I can convince myself that there will be a day…
No, I cannot lie to myself…
You left me with the promise, the promise of your return…
That was seventy years ago,
Seventy years of no letter,
Seventy years of no look,
Seventy years of wondering 'When?'
So many people have gone now… They had once convinced me that it would be the next day, and part of me holds to that distant hope, but still it does not seem to be happening…
Perhaps it was a mistake on my part… Maybe you didn't you say you would return to me…
Maybe I have become delirious… My mind weaving lies to protect myself from the true hurt…
No, you said those words, you said you'd return me…
And yet I still find myself asking…
When?