Press delete

I was thinking about deleting this blog. Just like that. Press delete. At first my reason was that I don't want him to see me grow up, learn to grow and live without him. I want him to wonder, as I wonder. I want him to call right before I walk away. Its too late though. His phone has been disconnected for days now. I don't want to play anymore, I want my ball back. I claim to want to grow privately, except I grow on public display, in front of the person who is the sole motivator of my writing lately. Then I thought, no, I just don't want him to know, to keep seeing me, to keep listening to me, to me still adoring him like it was me and him again, like I was there again. I don't want him to shake his head as he reads this, if he even reads this. I might as well should have named this blog after him. It kills me. To keep on hoping, to keep adoring knowing that I'm alone in it all. I don't know whats worse is him knowing or him knowing and watching me fall in front of him. I want to lay under the covers till the afternoon and cry, just cry. But I dont cry anymore. So I just lay there. Wondering. Is this easing or is this worsening?