Trying to be together.

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So each time I persuaded him to stay and try.
I would do this and show him that.
And I kept my end of the bargain.
Each time he agreed.

Then he doubted again.
Then we tried again.
6 months or more of this.
6 months in which I lay in our bed, from which I saw his clothes hanging next to mine. Lived in a house that had not changed a bit. When he walked in, it was as if nothing had changed.
But each morning I woke up with a racing heart.
He left me... No, he hasn't, we are trying.
Each day, the same moments of panick. The same moments of relief.
No, he hasn't left me... we are trying...
But he wasn't, really...

He went to sleep more and more in the woods and at other people's houses.
He would go for bike and motorbike rides at night. Seeking kicks that he said he had missed out on so many years with me.
I gave him the time. The space, maybe less...

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