Well I think I’ve finally reached that point.
I’ve been waiting and waiting for the chance to speak to you, to clear the air, to try and mend this broken thing you left.
The pain is utterly unbearable. It is consuming me, erasing anything that was left of who I am.
Now I am just pain and god it hurts so much and it just won’t stop.
I dread going to sleep because the dreams are so painful; in them you forgive me and we are happy again and it’s like I am made of air.
I dread waking up because the pain is instantaneous; it slams into me making my heart race and my whole body shake. Because I know that this is real and I can’t change it. Because you are gone and its my fault and I miss you so fucking much that it is killing me.
All I want is to talk to you. Is that really so much when I am suffering so badly and you are not?
Couldn’t you just pick up the god damn phone this one time? To save someone? To save me?
How do you go from so intensely in love to so distant and cold? Please tell me, I need that.
People wanted me to just accept this, let it go. Now that I have, I am worse.
There is only darkness in the future; it’s just a black wall and I can’t see behind it. I don’t want to. It hurts.
Behind is only regret and yearning.
Now is pain.
I’ve had this plan pending for a couple weeks now. I’ve been putting it off in the hopes that I’d finally get to draw something positive out of a meeting with you. That I could fix this and maybe move on in a positive way because we were still friends, or hopefully lovers or something, just something. But you won’t give me that chance and you don’t care about me anymore and OH GOD it HURTS. It is physically hurting me; my chest feels like it’s splitting and my brain is broken and I’m drowning in darkness. My body no longer works – I can’t walk, I can’t stand, I have no balance and I am so, so tired.
I needed an end to this. I NEEDED IT. People thought I was stupid pursuing you, because you are not worth it. But it wasn’t just our love I wanted back. I needed ME back. I was trying to save me. But that chance is gone. And now the only way I can save me from this hell is to end it my way. I have to.
My mind is set now. It gives me some relief to know that it will all be over soon. That I don’t have to face four months of summertime loneliness, or years of ‘fucked up’. I cannot live with this; I am not living with this now; I won’t have to.
Not long left. The time is coming and I will welcome it.