You Still Have My Heart

Every time I see that smirk of yours, it makes me want to scream. I don't understand myself. I don't understand why you still have my heart in your hand. I want you to have it. I want you to give it back. You've had it from day one, though. You remember, right?

We met at the movie theater and everything seemed great. Our friend said we would make a great pair. He said that you could help me end my depression, and that you'd done it for other people before. I was just so eager to have my depression come to an end that I figured maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to come out.

You see, I hadn't left my house in weeks then. I actually got up, I showered, got dressed, put on a little makeup to cover the breakouts. I wanted to make a good impression. Our friend told me that you would have my heart in your hands by the end of the night. I didn't believe him. My guard was high. After all, I was facing depression. You ended my depression though. I'm thankful for that.

I'm no longer going through the motions of everything, but I don't think you think about me as much as I do you. I follow you every moment of the day and lie next to you in your bed at night. You never notice me there though. You always sleep so soundly with a slight snore. I've grown to love and hate it at the same time. So has the other girl. We talk about you a lot. When you leave for work in your fancy office, she follows you there. I can't make myself leave your apartment yet. She says that I'll be able to get back in without you noticing, but I don't believe her just yet.

She told me that I need to see what's happening outside, that I've been in your apartment just watching you, looking through your old pictures and going through everything you own for too long. She said people are looking for me and I would know that if I ever left your apartment.

All of that is inadequate to me. I feel nothing but apathy towards anything but you. I feel a little sympathy towards her, but that's mainly because she's been ensnared in your trap longer than I have. Your words are so beautiful. I love to hear the voicemails that you call and leave when you're thinking about me. If only I knew where my phone was. I know it's going straight to voicemail now, though, which is good. I'd hate for you to hear it ringing and know that I'm still here.

This is the longest I've ever stayed at a man's house. I think I've fallen for you, but first we have to make HER go away. All she does is talk about the outside world, telling me that things aren't what they seem. She won't even explain things. Always so cryptic, it drives me insane! Why can't she just say what she means!?

The dog next door is growling, so I know that you're at the front door, I lunge into the closet, the closest thing that I can find to hide myself. She's right next to me. I didn't even see her come in, but she's staring at me with pity in her eyes. I look through the crack in the door, watching you go over to the freezer to prepare dinner. I haven't been hungry since the night we met. I've only wanted you. You've been my only obsession. My weight must be just falling off right now.

I look closer in the freezer, seeing something more... something gray? What is that? You really must clean up, my love. You need to make sure that everything is healthy so that you stay healthy. She sighs, standing next to me, she told me I still don't get it, then she does the unspeakable. She opens the closet door and screams.

You jump and walk over to the closet. You're so calm about things; that's something I admire about you. You're so collected. I start muttering an excuse, but it's as if you don't hear me. I tell you that I love you, and that you have my heart in your hands. I look down at your hands and see it then. You truly have my heart in your hands.