I'm sitting here in one of the cradles of my summer heartache. All I can think of is pacing between tiles to spend hours of wasted work spending your mobile minutes; more hours trading e-mails and instant messages. An epicentre of my falling ever in love with you. Now, nearly half a year later, I'm stepping between the same grout. Battling the same thoughts of an eventual gravity that will wrestle you away. Add to that, your husband's family and a life that you can't deny is in most ways, worth maintaining. I'm wallowing and terrified and feeling like everything is pushing you into a realization that will suck every bit of life from these tiny lungs of mine. There aren't many analogies these days that don't seem utterly clich� and laughable. Sadly, I'm not laughing.