Hanging by a Thread.

There's a kind of emptiness that can feel you.

The freezing wind beat against me, whipping my brown hair into my face.
I let it enfold me even more. It was the first relief I'd felt for as long as I can remember; it pounded into me until I was numb, both physically and emotionally, ringing through the hollow shell that used to be me.
I wasn't me, and everyone around knew it. They knew I was now devoid of everything I once was; I was your little creation.

You came into my life suddenly, and forced yourself onto me until I actually doted on you, until I hung on every single syllable your beautiful velvet accent uttered. You made me crazy about you, to the point that I was wholly\ enchanted by every single aspect of your being. Before you came along, I was secure and independent; I could take care of myself, by myself.
But that changed when you came into the picture. I followed you like a stray dog, begging you to take me in. I did anything and everything for you, in hopes that it would earn just one little smile from you.
Sometimes, you would generously award me, and give me a genuine smile, one that made me think that just maybe, you felt something for me too.
I thought of myself as a good, well-composed person, until you.
Without even trying, you opened my innocent eyes to what I really was.
I was weak, and let anyone trample on me. I was stupid and naive, and believed what people told me too easily. I was pitiful, and didn't deserve a spot on this earth, unless I proved myself and did something huge.
If I didn't impress you, you made me feel like the lowest piece of trash in the world, just by giving that expressionless, uninterested gaze.
You showed me the meaning of "tough love", and I knew I should have just left, but you were just too compelling.
I was stupid. You were using me, but I honestly believed I was falling in love with you.
I was only sixteen, and you were twenty two; you had so much to show me, and I was astounded by it.
You took me with you on your tour with your band, and showed me life outside of Chicago.
It was utterly unbelievable.
I was so calm and quiet, as opposed to your loud, obnoxious lifestyle, but somehow, that just pulled me in deeper.
We were like two very unstable elements being pulled together in a deadly magnetic adhesion, and you were the evil scientist; You knew this was going to go bad, and explode in our faces, but you didn't care.

You pushed me to the proverbial edge of this cliff you built, and shoved me off of it. You caught me, but now I'm only hanging by a thread.
I can feel the small fibers of the thread snapping, one by one. It's inevitable that it will soon give way and sever, sending me into that dark, unknown pit of despair.

With you here, I feel like the same old me. I feel important, because I know someone as great as you could be off with anyone they want, but you choose to stay here, with me. I know I'm not much to waste your time on; I'm too skinny, my legs are too long, my hair isn't soft enough, my teeth aren't perfectly straight, I'm too shy, everything about me seems to be a bad quality, but you still put up with me.
I count the days dreadfully, just waiting until the moment you decide you're tired of having to watch out for me, until you leave me.
I don't like to think about it. It makes every bit of my body quiver and shake, but I have to. I have to prepare myself, keep on guard, because I know it's going to happen... It's just a matter of time.

When you leave, it's so hard to function. Even if it's just for one day.
I crave you. I need your touch. I need those strong, tan arms around my too small torso, to keep me from floating away with the euphoria.
When you're gone though, there is no flying. It's like throwing a cinder block into the ocean; I sink quickly, dragging everything down with me.
When you're there, I defy gravity and buoyantly float over the tossing waves, but when you're gone, I'm hitting the ocean floor, deeper than anyone can ever fall.
I hate to admit how much I really need you here, because that's yet another sign of weakness.

I've tried to put myself in your shoes and figure out what it is that you see in me, because I honestly have nothing going for me.
I've tried to look at things from your perspective, but I'm still left confused.
What is it that keeps you uttering those sweet words to me at night?
What is it that keeps you singing me to sleep when I'm a nervous wreck?
What is it that keeps you calling me when you're away, just to check up on me and see if I'm alright?
What have I done to deserve you? What have I done to get myself into such a mess?
I won't let these questions go. I'm always wondering them. Someone like you can't possibly just love someone like me. You're a god compared to me.
I'm nothing without you. You're just as great and successful without me.
I bet you would be even more successful without me weighing you down.
I know that I'm terribly selfish. I know how you could soar without me here, but I can't bring myself to leave.
It's like trying to just suddenly give up cocaine. It's next to impossible.

I want you to know what I am like because of you. I hope you see how beaten and bruised I am because of this relationship.
There's a reason a low-life kid shouldn't be with an amazing, perfect adult. The low-life slips and drags the adult down with him. Neither benefit in the long run.
I think you know how doomed we are. Star-crossed lovers always are.
The thread has snapped now, but you manage to show up at just the right moment to grasp my hand and keep me from falling. You manage to pull me back up with you onto the ledge, but now it's crumbling under both of us.

You've put me through hell, and I know I should be glad that your downfall is approaching soon too, but I'm not.
That's how love works I guess. I want you to stay safe, even if it means me getting double of whatever should be our end. I would do that for you, and though I shouldn't even think about it, I foolishly wonder if you might do the same for me.