You’d think it would have stopped when you convinced yourself that his face is not the face you want to remember. That his smile would not creep into your dreams every night and turn those dreams into wakeful terrors.
You’d think you’re strong enough. You’ve been through it all before. The same texts, the same feelings, the same cries and the same conclusion. You know the drill and yet you rope yourself back into that pit of nothingness until it consumes every fiber of you, once again.
On most mornings you’re going to wake up feeling alone. Distant. Your bed reminds you of your despair and your curtains remind you of the doors that he shut on you. The doors that might never open again and the sunlight that might never save you.
It doesn’t matter who else is in your life. You wish you had something else to look forward to other than his absence.
You’d think of hope – the killer of all souls. A mere word that makes your bones crush to dust and your veins burst from anxiety.
You’ll want to relive moments and hold his hand amidst the noise again while he whispers into your ears and send flutters down your spine, only to know that your spine is now feeble and breaking.
You’ll retrace your steps back to him in everything you see, hear and feel and those steps will pull you down in a quicksand of all the words he said that you should not have believed.
(I cannot think of how to end this)