Bleeding Heart

Dear You know who you are,
I am so sad that I can't feel good about loving you anymore.  It's not that I don't love you- I do.  That is why I am so sad about it.  It is habitual to want to pick up the phone every time something slightly notable happens that I would tell someone about.  You would be that someone.  It is automatic to think of you every time I have a spare thought available.  It is second nature to have frequent fond thoughts and warm feelings for you at the tip of my mind and heart, and then I get so angry when a second later I remember that those thoughts and feelings are pointless and false because the hope is gone.  I know you now.  I was dreaming of your potential, but they were my dreams, not yours.  If I could have been your mother, and taken care of your little, innocent, baby self back then, before anyone else shaped you, then I could have held your hand and raised up the beautiful child parts of you to help you to grow into my notion of your potential.  Then the you that I like wouldn't be mixed in with the you that disturbs me so deeply.  This bizarre thinking leads to nowhere, as obviously it could never be possible, and if I had raised you then I would love you in a whole different way altogether.  This is the way that I wander when I try to make sense of it all, and my tears take turns with a chokey lump in the throat and a desire to eat chocolate and ice cream and fill myself with anything sweet that might feel like the sweetness I used to feel when I thought that one day it might work out to remain in love with you.
There goes a tear now.  A big, slow beginning of a cry, creeping a cold path on my cheek and chin, that could take a lifetime to squeeze out in it's entirety.  Goodbye love.  Please go now.
It always comes down to this song.