An Advent of Sense

I know that we have a problem. It's been swirling around and within us for what seems like ages. I, being the communicative one, always bring it up. We used to be fire! Consuming our bodies. And I still feel that way. Then why, every morning, when I move to touch you, do you turn so coldly away? I'm so overwhelmed with these feelings, I've shared them so often with you, and yet things have not been healed. I'm at a loss for what to do. Improvement has happened, indeed, but it's so painful having to wait for the person you want to want you again. I've read all the articles, reasoned out all of the possibilities, but no conclusions can be drawn. I love you with such a vigor and such a conviction, and I know you feel the same way. This is all about you. What can't you find in your soul, body, and memory that prevents you from being with me? I want to help but I've tried I am beyond it, I suppose. That is so hard to admit. We need

I don't want somebody else. I don't want to drastically change who I am. I'm not unhappy with my life, I just want to be excited! Vibrating with the pleasure of being alive. It's hard to remember feeling that way, sitting on this train, going to work somewhere that is ripe with the possibility of that feeling... I guess I'm just bored and uncreative! We get in these continuous ruts where all we do is sit around, watch TV, eat, complain about boredom, drink, and stay up too late. I hope that's just a common summer syndrome.