The rain is falling... and so are my tears

I've been in Paris for a month and five days. In five days, it'll be three months since the first time me and my boyfriend met. Three months since that faithful night, when our eyes kept finding each other and the world stopped moving just for the moment of a glance. Three months. Somehow it seems like such a short period, and yet, I feel like I've been in this relationship for ages.

Thomas has been amazing. He was so sweet and charming when we met. Messaging me all the time. Wanting to skype 24 hours a day when I was abroad. Telling me he loved me and calling me his heart.

Funny enough these days are now over, and now is the time where I need them back the most.

I am away from him. Three nights every once in a while is all I have with him. Three small nights that are not enough. Three nights that barely get me through the day. He is fading away and the harder I try to keep him in my life the faster I see him disappear.

I know he works 18 hours a day. And I do understand that this means, that he doesn't have much time to miss me... but how about the fact that he never replies to my messages. The fact that I rarely get a chance to get him on the phone. Or that he never calls when he says he will.

I am struggling. I am struggling because I don't know if he still wants me in his life. I am struggling because it feels like he is just waiting for me to give up. To say I've had enough. It feels like he is waiting for an easy way out.

I know that I when I see him again, I should tell him about my insecurities. I should tell him that I cry, almost every day, because I am terrified of losing him. I should tell him to please let me go, if he doesn't feel the same way about me.

But every time I come home to him, I don't say anything. Not a word of how I feel or what I think. The time we have together is so little and so precious that I don't want to ruin it. But the problem is, not speaking doesn't mean he can't read that something is wrong in my actions and in my eyes. When he asked me what was wrong, I said nothing. And he asked again. And I said nothing. And then he said: Fine, suit yourself. Don't say I didn't ask.

I spent the night silently crying next to him... hurting... and it's my own fault.

I don't want to ruin anything. I am afraid that my past relationships have gotten me so paranoid that I read too much into everything and that I am freaking out about nothing.

But what if I am not... what if he is done... what if I am going to get my heart broken again...

How am I supposed to make it through the day?