I know factually that life isn’t fair. My entire existence is a testimony of that premise.
I really love him though, y’all. I really would have done anything. Any and every single fucking thing.
My chest feels like someone punched me in the heart about 40 times, and it still isn’t enough to make me feel human. There’s pain, but no feeling, if that makes any sense.
I don’t have any particular desire to do much. I don’t feel like telling you anything, but I’m here anyway. Maybe one day I’ll start a relationship column. Maybe one day I’ll believe in something other than the God awful searing pain in my chest.
Not today, though. Today, I’m simply trying to remember to breathe, or maybe to forget how to, I can’t really be sure.
If you have anything to bring to the table, bring the shit then. I’m tired of hearing the sound of my chest caving in. I’m tired of listening to weeping and realizing it’s me.
I’m tired.
I know I’ve known pain. Deep, searing, horrible pain. I know that I have.
This shit here. Man, teeth sucking, cussing, breathtaking agony.
And still, I’m clicking these keys and saying these words and it will take me somewhere eventually. I’ll wade my way through this riding on the backs of the home row.
Take me home, words. Take me somewhere that isn’t in the midst of this horrible feeling of emptiness.
I need to backstroke through the alphabet soup until all that are left are the stupid consonants, like Q, and V. I need to build an ark for the animal crackers.
I need to be back inside of my mind, in the place where I talk to myself and I’m comfortable. I need to be anywhere that this horrible reality cannot reach me.
Move over, Zebras, I’m diving in.
"You fall in love with the people who make you love the person you are when you're around them" I have no idea who said that, but add that to your soup and marinate in it. I'll toss you a life preserver shortly.
Much love to you. Hugs from afar.