attempt at getting shapeless words out of my chest

It's raining outside today, and I have half a mind to go driving, looking for you. I would meet you today. I'm sure the search would turn up fruitless, I'd just get dizzy from cigarettes and come home, cranky with nostalgia and wasted time.

We were a disaster, me and you, but you knew me well, and I worry. Worry because I know that he does not, know me the way that you did. Do I think he can't truly love me because he's never experienced my cruelty? But I don't want him to, I could never, would never hurt him. I'm not like that any more. But it's still there, inside me, somewhere deeper and weaker than it used to be. But I know it could come out again.

I can't tell him these things, how I worry there's something fundamentally wrong with us that will destroy our lives later, years from now.....it's the little things that make me wonder. His hands. The way he laughs when I'm upset. How he very rarely looks at me when we make love. Sometimes I tell him to, but even then it's as if he doesn't really see me, as if he's staring at the tops of my irises and can see no further. Sometimes I feel alone when I am with him, frustrated, and our hearts don't touch. This man, this beautiful creature, so delicate and so strong all at once, this hunter of my heart, who has caught it, but holds it now in one hand, watching warily. I love him, in a way I have never loved anyone before, but he doesn't understand, can't seem to hear me in my words or actions. I cannot bear the thought of losing him because of some miscommunication. Maybe I'm expecting too much from him too soon. It hasn't even been quite a year. I know he's used to being lied to, deceived on all levels, and that this will take a long time. It's just sometimes I feel like we're not making any progress at all, continually coming back to the same conversations and loops of thought, magnifying nuances in my movement and the tone of my voice. I'm trying. But most of the time I just feel like I'm failing. Like I can't make him happy, unable to lay his fears to rest for even a moment. And that worries me. I feel like if we're really meant to be together, then I could make him understand, he would know when he looks in my eyes.

Yes, I just said that. "Meant to be." Is it a childish notion? I don't know..... But oh, how my heart aches to know him, to reach out to him and make contact. What am I missing? Why can't I do this?

And then always, the fear that I'm not it, I'm not good enough for him, that it ain't me you're looking for, babe.

So my forehead stays wrinkled. Cigarettes.