She sits in debris.
Rubble presses into her thighs and she shifts, uncomfortable. She has always enjoyed mess but this is just so vast, she can’t seem to see the end of it. Picking up a shard of glass, she runs her fingers over the jagged edges knowing she will get cut. She does. It is not a deep wound but the spiking pain elicits an involuntary cry from her, even though she was expecting it. She squeezes her thumb, making the little balloon of blood swell and break, sinking into the fine creases of her fingerprint. Pretty, she thinks and then puts her thumb in her mouth, sucking on it like a child as she surveys the damage.
So much to do. So much to sort through. How could she possibly get through this mess? Decide what to store and what to throw away?
* * * Continue reading Liberté
I’ve finally run out of things to say to you. Run out of ways to explain how much it hurt when you left.
How bright the spark of hope was when you asked me back only to push me away again. How the brightness of each spark dimmed every time it happened. And it happened a lot.
Our little cycle.
I thought it must mean something that we couldn’t stay away from each other. Surely it must. But every time you proved me wrong. Every time I wound up alone, missing you, with the terrible knowledge that your thoughts of me were being constantly overshadowed by thoughts of someone else.
You say you want me but how can I ever believe those words from you again? Everything you have done has gone against it. Continue reading Darling
I woke up this morning and wished I hadn’t.
Memories of the night before immediately sucker punched me in the stomach and I was fighting to breathe for a few minutes, clutching my pillow, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping that by some miracle that I could disappear. I looked at my phone. He had given up trying to explain.
As I turned my face towards the jet of steaming hot water in my shower, I wondered when I’d ever felt so irrelevant. So like I just… didn’t matter. I wondered how he could even try and tell me that I wasn’t after what he had done. There was no anger so much as absolute sadness that this time, unlike all the other times, it was actually over. He claimed it wasn’t over for him but for the first time, it was over for me.
Continue reading The awakening