I’m running. Earbuds in. My throat aches. My heart aches.
I'm running toward anything, and away from everything.
I recognize the subtle beginnings of the next song, so light upon the air. The song, heavy with memories, stops me cold. I stagger over to the side of the road, double over, heave. The notes rip through my brain, and crash into me.
I try to purge the pain from my broken self, water gushing out of my face, carrying bits of me away with every tear that falls to the dirt.
How the hell did I get here? And more importantly, how do I get out of here?
Healing is a hopeless process.
A slow and painful cutting into the soil of the flesh, methodically turning up row after row of exposed earth. Spent, infected earth that is weary from the burden of blame, resentment, grief.
The hopeless process continues.
Continues on and on and on and on and on and on and on.
With the impossible hope of turning up new, healthy soil, so one day something…
Anything, might take root and grow.
You closed the door, but left it open just enough. Only a crack, so just enough air and light might reach me — enough to keep me breathing, hopeful … Alive.
You closed the door, but left it open just enough. I don't believe you ever intended to open it again.
The connection was clear from the moment she entered your life. Clear to those who read and feel energy between people.
I felt powerless to stop it, as mutual attraction and shared emotional experience can create a powerful bond. After all, it’s not unlike how we fell in love.
I knew how this story would end. Yet when light finally fell upon the truth, it cruelly tore my soul from my body, still.
Because I forever loved you.