All it took was his fascination with me and I lost control. God, I never knew we would end like this. I never knew there would be a we.
Four months after the break up, nine since I realized how much I loved him. It’s like mourning a death, you cry, and wish there was something more you could’ve done to prevent it. You cry, wish you could hold them one last time. You cry, you’re in complete denial of everything. Cry, get angry, cry, cry, cry. Surrounded by oxygen, yet you can’t breathe. Your chest collapsing with the ten ton weight it’s carrying. Your body sore like it’s recovering from a surgery. Except, after a surgery you eventually heal. A heart break doesn’t. It can get patched up, forget for a little, maybe. But it’s permanent, the pain is lasting. To a certain point it feels almost whole again, but is it really whole? Or did the pain just become so natural you forgot what whole really feels like? You can’t ever love like that again. You can never give yourself away the way you did that first time. You can come close, but it won't be the same. Your body uses it's defense mechanism and puts up a wall, blocking you from getting close to the original feeling of love, ultimately to protect itself.
I wake up every morning with the hope we'd meet again, and he'd remember how good we were. I go to bed praying I'll wake up with a missed call or text from him saying he needs me. But that's just crazy. It's not a reality. I am physically damaged. Four months of waiting, four whole months, 121 days. The cracks on my heart just won't go away, like the stitches on the stuffed animal that your dog chewed up. It looks okay from afar, but close up, it's a mess.
I bathe in my tears, hopeless for the day it all goes away. The one day out of all the possible 25,550 days left in my life. He's not aware of the damage he left on me. Or maybe he is, and doesn't care or he doesn't want to care. While I'm self-destructing into the nothing he made me feel.
There's good and bad days. But every bad day has him written all over it. If I could erase him, I would in an instant. Part of me wants to be happy I got the pleasure of him being apart of my life for that short time. But the other half, wishes so badly he was just a person in my dreams. Someone vacant.
