I worry endlessly that you will tire of me.
That all my complexities, eccentricities and habits will wear on you with time
And you will retreat even further away.
I worry that even the smallest things will begin to bother you with time.
The freckles above my knee
The way my nose crinkles when I laugh
The smell of my hair
The sound of my voice
And I will feel you pulling slowly away
The way people do when they no longer feel at home beside someone
When resentment takes the place of constant desire and adoration
When convenience and complacency overtake compassion and tenderness.
And I will be left there
Not knowing what I did wrong,
Just knowing simply
That you're gone.
