It\'s like, just when my lungs finally start to fill with air, when the blood starts flowing at a slower pace through my heart, when my words aren\'t so painful to speak, something punctures my lungs, rips the valves from my heart open and I find myself once again choking on my words. Loving you is the culperate I have finally caught that keeps killing me. I never wanted to love you; in fact I have tried so insanely hard not to; but how can you rip a beating heart from your own chest and live through it? That is what I have yet to figure out.