It’s been a quiet month. Writing has been a frustration. The only thing I have managed to jot down are the random thoughts that fly through my brain at the most inopportune times. Some are dark, some depressed or angry, and some are just desperate. What follows are things I never expected to share with anyone. But, then I realized, it’s possible that these thoughts are exactly what I needed to share. Because, maybe you have thoughts like this too.
I never have enough time to work through the pain. I stay stuck in the confusion of once being so loved, and now never being enough.
I can’t get you out of my head today. What you told me. What happened to you. I don’t know how to deal with it. I want to love you. I want to hate you for not telling me. I want…..something
My days are long. Or maybe my nights are just short. Either way, I work a lot, and sleep very little.
I hate that when I look at you I still see the man I loved. It would be so much gentler on my heart if I could see you for who you have become.
There is more than one kind of death. There is physical death. It is devastating, and sometimes sudden, and almost always tragic. But then there is death of love, death of belief, death of hope. Death is haunting no matter what capacity it is in.
God is an asshole, dependent on people’s pain. And you are his spitting image.
I used to love you. That feels so far away now. My heart is more robotic, and my head is more direct. But the facts are still the same. I used to love you.
He asked me why I’m so mean to myself. I told him “Because that is how you’ve taught me to be.”
Some days my heart just breaks under the weight of all the pain. You would think there would be nothing left to break, but there is.
Somebody love me. I feel unlovable. He taught me I was, and you can’t un-teach the broken, can you? Don’t they have to be put back together, and made whole again to be taught how to love? And, my shattered heart was broken into so many pieces that it turned to dust, and blew away in the storm that is my life.
I have to go back for the lost pieces of myself.
Losing ones shit accomplishes nothing. But, I feel better now.
All at once she remembered how to turn her emotions off, and become the bitch he had made her out to be.
My life is so different now, and I can’t seem to get it to stay still long enough to get a grip.
My mind is a mesh of thoughts that always want to implode.