My love,
I think about you all the time. How you paint me with the colors - colors that don't belong on me. I don't fit with you. Not like that. Not like the roses grow. I wish I could find a watered down version of you. One I could easily hate. They all come in ugly shapes.
I am free without you. Free and miserable. Every morning is a ghastly chore. Every night is like the finale. It never ends. You and I never end.
I am miss-communicating everything.