Head spins have been replaced with heart sinks, as your warmth has been replaced by the frost. The uncertainty has found your switch, and turned off the light. I miss how it used to shine from your eyes, and I wish I knew how to mend this short circuit.
It feels like someone kicked you in the stomach, feels like your heart stopped beating, feels like that dream, you know, the one when you are falling, and you want to desperately to wake up before you hit the ground, but it’s all out of your control, you can’t trust anything anymore, no one is who they say they are, your life is changed forever,
and the only thing to come out of this whole ugly experience is no one will be able to break me like that again.
When I can’t handle things, I sleep. I sleep off pain and I sleep off anger. The tears can’t escape if my eyes are closed. And being in a still, dark environment reminds me of the end I’ve been waiting for.
As the sun rises, a new day begins. The stars are no longer in sight and the glimmer of hope is gone.
I wonder at the mystery of life and how much of it can possibly remain. I wonder at pain and hurt and love and time and how much of each I have held.
I keep turning you into writing, trying to rid you from my skin.
As long as I’ve known, it’s been chasing me, and now it’s here, it’s strong enough to break through. And I can’t fight this, I used to be able to but now I can’t, I’m too fragile. Because I can miss every phone call, ignore every attempt to reconnect, but when I close my eyes, you’re still there, with me, at the place we once knew so well. And I can fool my head that you’re nothing to me, but my heart knows better.
I’m back to where I was three years ago, but so are you.
Honestly, all I want to do right now is fall to the ground and weep.
Get this thing out. I want it out. I want out. I want you. Until I have you, then I find myself running, just like every time before. I want to be free once again, but there’s something inhibiting me, and it’s bursting from my every pore. I can’t handle this for much longer.
Just hold me, I promise for tonight only. Fool me, tell me that everything is going to be okay, even though I know it won’t be. And then I’ll go, leave before you do.
Dear future you. Hold on. Please.
Dear current you. I’m holding on. But it hurts.
Dear past you. I held on. Thankyou.
What does it matter anyway?
It’s just another name crossed off the list.
By the time you read this, I’ll be fine.