Return of Letters to Heather Pt. II

Dear Heather,
There are things people tell me I should do. Solutions they have to my current problem that is tearing me apart. I know what I should be doing, just as I have known what I should be doing all along. But there are things we do that we know we should be doing and there are things we do just because we're following something inside of ourselves that we cant really describe, despite everything around us telling us we shouldn't be.
I was almost convinced of what people have been telling me. Convinced that it was the right thing to do, for nothing more than my safety, sanity, and happiness. But today in Biology, when I didn't have anything to do, I took out my book to read. Upon opening it I was overwhelmed with a sense of longing I've forced myself to not feel anymore. You see, inside the book are my pictures of you. Seeing you gazing out from those moments captured on paper made me re-realize what exactly it was I wanted. I talked to Stephanie as she looked through those pictures for the millionth time. About how I was hurting. What I hoped would and wouldn't happen. Before I knew it, the tears that had come when I opened the book spilled over and began to run down my face, trailing the black eyeliner I had on with it. Real tears, ones not accompanied with gasping sobs. Genuinely miserable tears. The most painful.
I don't know what to do. I cannot think about you. I cannot talk about you. My days are empty as of late. Filled with laughter which is not of the happy sort. A type of hysterical laughter that relieves some of this excruciating pain I'm in waiting for you to call. Waiting to see how this all will pan out. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I was washing my hands after lunch and stood at the sink for a full thirty seconds, not moving, lost in thought, only to come back to earth not knowing what it was I was doing. The same thing happened this morning in art class as I went to get a pass for the library. Mrs. Winter noticed and with a very concerned look on her face asked if I felt alright. I gave her my automatic defense of 'I'm fine' then half-heartedly filled out my pass.
I'm scared that my days will only get worse. I'm scared that I will soon be alone. I'm scared that if I do end up alone, I will never really recover from this. Scared no one will ever measure up to you.

You told me you'd love me forever. You told me you wanted to be with me for that long as well. I hope... I hope you haven't changed your mind. I hope what's been going on is only temporary. I hope everyone else is wrong.
Because I love you.