Don't let me drown...

You once told me that you thought of our relationship as some long line I had committed to waiting in. That I knew it was useless—that I’d wait forever—that I should know when it was best to cut and run instead of waiting it out. I’m more patient than you give me credit for. To me, you weren’t just some line—some destination I was racing to get to. You were never the finish line or the prize. You were the journey I was always glad to embark on—that was never tedious or unexciting. You were my voyage of happiness. You still are. Although you may have given up on us and our ship is sinking, I’m still here—I’m still knee deep in the water, desperately trying to plug the holes and keep us afloat. I will cling onto us until I go down with the ship. And, even then, I will use hope—the hope of going on the journey with you again—the hope of feeling your breath on my neck once more—as my safety device.