All I want is to feel close to you. I want to trust you. I want nothing to change. I want to hear, "I love you," and, "Goodnight," before I fall asleep.

And if I can't have that, then what I want is the strength to live without it. I want dreams without you in them. I want the ability to go for days at a time without needing to talk to you. I want to be able to find someone else. I want to be able to move on.

But I am not moving on. I know it's too soon to hope that I might, but I wish I could see the light at the end of the tunnel . I would have you and everyone believe that I am dealing with this as calmly as possible, but I am acting desperate every single moment except when I know you are paying attention.

On a positive note, I only cried briefly yesterday, compared to the floods from weeks before. But it's not a mark of strength; being under supervision, I had no choice. I cannot make a single move without being watched because everyone is waiting for me to fall apart.

I already fell apart, though, didn't I? I have a Bad Habit worse than you will ever know. I can fight it as hard as I want, but at the end of the day, I haven't got the strength to resist. That would make you angry, probably angrier than I've ever seen you, which is why I won't tell you about it. If it is okay for you to hide things, it must be okay for me as well.

I think a part of my mind is still adjusting and doesn't quite believe that you can be without me. It's difficult when we started out as friends, experienced a period of separation, came back as friends and then lovers, and now have to go back to the friends situation. We are so practiced at being casual that it shouldn't feel much different now than it felt when we were together, but with a moratorium on kisses and orgasms and any mention of the future, there doesn't feel like there's much left. And it's not that way; I know there is more to us than the cutesy, making-other-people-wanna-hurl lovey-doveyness. We can talk about anything, and we've always been that way (excepting the period of separation) so we should be able to pick up and move on as friends knowing that we can always make a conversation.

But tell me, does it feel to you like we're abusing the privilege of knowing each other by not exploiting our compatibility to its greatest extent? Does it feel like a waste to you, that two people should have the capacity to be so perfect together, but choose instead to just be friends? I'm almost ashamed that I let this happen, that I made this happen, when I know we could be so much more than this. I wonder if you feel the same, or if it never felt that way to you -- if you always thought we were best as friends. I don't want to think that you went this whole time just pretending that it felt right. I hope I wasn't the only one involved.

It just breaks my heart to know that I have to tuck these feelings away now. It breaks my heart to have to square my shoulders, take a deep breath, and find comfort in my own independence. Which would be a lot easier if I actually were independent. But I am not because I still need you.