Heavy.

It's a strange place to be in; one's lover depressed when one, too, is depressed. Once tries to hide one's depression so as not to bring the other down, while the other tries to as well, but the one notices and feels it.

I ask her to talk to me, but she doesn't want to. I feel perhaps I should start talking, then. I am weary and worried and wishing I could make her smile. We are not responsible for each others happiness, but we sure help each other in that regard. So when I fail to make her even a little brighter, well, I feel pretty useless... especially in light of all else that goes on around me lately. I can't seem to make any progress in just about all my endeavors. Things feels so mired and now the one comforting thing about my life is in a difficult stage.

It's strange: I want to comfort her. I want to ravage her. I want to kiss her. I want to eat her out. I want to sing to her. I want to go inside her. I want to hold her close to my chest. I want to taste her swollen tongue.

I want to fill her with emotions and thus be filled myself. Are we drowning?