Runaway Bunny

I sung to her at night. Every night. The same song. And she would do this thing, when she would close her eyes. And it felt like she was connecting with the music. That she was depicting every note, every sound, every word. I would watch her, watch her like she was my saving grace, like my angel. And at the chorus, the corners of her thin lips would pull up, and a small grin would form on her face. Her eyes would crinkle, and my heart would drop.

And inside, inside I feel a dark chasm. And its getting wider, deeper. It__ breaking my heart apart more and more. The chasm is filling up. Filling up with gallons and gallons tears. Tears that were unshed, but piled up. And the endless supply of hurt, anger, and sadness grew and grew. And now its going to burst out. The tears will empty from the chasm, and fall out as a stream from my blood shot eyes. And the chasm will expand, and expand and it will be too much for my small heart that can only take so much. And my heart will crack in two. But no one will know. No one will know the about the expanding chasms, or the gallons of tears, because I will appear fine on the outside. I will keep pretending. Even though inside I__ crying, and I__ breaking in two.

There was this movie that I would watch with her all the time, some stupid chick flick, and it had this opening line that would always make her catch her breath. 'I remember it hurt. Looking at her hurt', and I now realize that it was true. Every day I looked at her, it hurt. Hurt so much, because she was dying, and I couldn't help her.