Fragment #3

It pains me to see you cry. To see you lay in that position; your knees pressed up to your chest and your head resting against them with your shaking hands covering your red puffy eyes. Your back rising and falling as you take in short gulps of breath. It's gotten to you again. The depression. It's hit you hard this time, like the thunderstorm last July that flooded the streets and left a mess to clean up. I could tell by the way your brown eyes dulled and the faint, crooked smile you painted on your crumbling face every morning. And the way you carried yourself, slow and slumped.It's shown across your body like short stories written in braille on your paper skin. You think I haven't noticed. You believe that i think you've gotten better. I know what's to come. The razor blade. The pills. The alcohol. The never ending arguments against my reasons of why you need to stay. But I'm here and I'm not going to leave your side when you're in desperate need. I made a promise to your heart that night when you slipped the ring onto my finger at the midway. I'm here through the thoughts of suicide and the terrible memories of your mother that caused you to never trust another woman again. I'm here and I love you.