I wish I could say I'm still happy with you. Out of all honesty, I think we lost "it." That spark that made us at one point in our relationship, so content with ourselves, so thankful to be together. We were pretty much inseparable; our daily agendas had to consist of time together. Sure we argued here and there, but we always made up and shoved the pile of anger, jealousy, and bitterness to the side. We got into a fight; cup our hands with another pile of that sort and push it to the side. We fight over miniscule details that irritate us so, and scoop another pile. After our typically heated tousles, we'd still get jabbed by that irksome pile, but time slowly plastered a wall, layer by layer. After some fights, more and more layers started to thicken, and now we had a sort of wall. A wall that was once paper-thin, to a brick wall with soundproof padding. Now, communication couldn't be spoken through. Our hard-headed skulls were indifferent to the hurt feelings, the hurt we were feeling. For me, communication is something I do not practice very often. But when I drink, everything comes out. Like free verse, my speech is most likely overwhelming due to the fact that I hardly speak how I feel. I know you make that effort to get through to me. You do a great job with communicating with me, however I do not reciprocate. That must be terrible: never knowing how I feel or what I'm thinking. I wish I had a slippery tongue, and let my words slide right out. But my pride or whatever it is that's holding me back, won't let me. Our current stage isn't at its finest. Even talking to you on the phone, can make me so annoyed. We're only happy when we're fucked up. When we're sober, we're stoic. I feel like our happiness faded; we're now archaic. And yes, it's primarily my fault. I give up. We were once golden. Now we're gold dust.