I love you.
  It all starts as simply as that. It always does.
  How can you not see it? How can you not sense it? Believe it, put your trust in it, feel it in the air when we are together? How can you disregard my pact-paced, beat-skipping heart? How can you never look upon me with kindness in heart  and spirit, when I can assure you that my own heart beats for you? These lungs draw air for you, these eyes never crave the sight of anything unless it is your sight, this mind bears your thought constantly, this soul weeps for you, unable to withstand the fact that you are not here, I cannot embrace you, I cannot get lost in one of your smiles, I  can't hear your musing voice, nor smell your mesmerizing scent.
  I cannot sleep at night. I think of you, and I cry, And 'tis a cry most bitter and tormenting, for tears do not flow, there is only the awful lack of them. It seems that my eyes have dried along with my throat. My eyes hurt, and then I stop. I realize that I'm holding something in my hands, as if my own life depends on it, and in a way, it does. It is my pillow, a cheap substitute of you that never was adequate consolation, nor will it ever be. My grip tightens, I want the pillow begone and replaced by your hand, kindly holding mine, gently announcing your presence, and of course, the pillow bends. It is nothing like you. Never was and never will. And I know that, yet there is nothing I can do but be patient.
  You've been gone for not so long, yet to my sensations it feels like eons. I cannot and dare not think of your everlasting absence, that which you so claim to seek, the cold dark touch of the night's grasp, the dry and bony smile of the Grim Reaper.
  I dare not think of losing you. I know I will end up deranged, eating my own fingers on my hands, or crying myself to sleep, silent since a time long forgotten, lying alone in a room that reeks of death and bodily fluids, my murderous and offset mind has created by means of gunpowder and knives, kept clean by use of spirits, my lone companions in an endless ocean of loss.
  What you have seen, you cannot unsee.
  What you have felt, you can never lie about to your self.
  If you ever loved me, dearest one, If one drop of your blood wished my well-being, then stay your hand and loosen your heart, let us live a night full of love, only you and I, a night full of everlasting dreams, solid and substantial, dreams we can make true, only if you do this thing for me and trust me, take my hand instead of the Angel of Death's and let us fight alongside, live alongside, overcome and overpower anything that stands in our way, forever you and me, united.
  Strong.
  Loved.

                                                                         by my heart,
                                                                                     Andreas Marios Kordatzis.
                                                                         I love you with all my being.