Silence
A piece to express my feelings. Short, and only one story.
Some like silence, they crave it like a drug.
I hate the silence, sometimes quiet is violent.
There's no hiding. I'm forced to deal with what I feel.
There is no distraction to mask what is real.
Inside that silence it screams the truth, I am alone.
I hear those hateful words that I don't dare tell them about.
Coming from the person who is supposed to love me unconditionally.
Sometimes I lay awake at night, looking over to that side of the bed.
I remember the night we shared, where you held me against you as we drifted to sleep.
And then I remember the morning. I woke up alone holding myself as my eyes gazed over to the now empty side.
I guess that's a reoccurring theme in my life, being alone.
I run my hand across that side when I close my eyes, hoping and praying that I might feel your warmth.
At least the tears warm my face.
I try my best to go throughout my days, avoiding these feelings of hopefulness and believe everything is going well. And in the day, it works. They believe me and for a moment, I believe myself. I play it off well in the limelight.
The silence falters that. It's truth screams at me and threatens to destroy me.
I can't take it.
No matter what I say, I'm not over you.
Those two months leading up to that were incredible.
You said things, I said things. We both believed one another and couldn't wait.
When I saw your smiling face, it took all my being to stop from grinning too widely.
From stopping my car right there, tackling you in a hug and never letting go.
Anybody can get an "I Love You' but it's more emotional to receive and "I Love You Too"
And then, it all crumbled. That day, will go down as one of the worst I've ever felt.
I walked you out to your car, and as I said goodbye and watched you go away, I broke down. The tears flowed faster than I've ever felt.
I cried myself to sleep that night, I couldn't open your door to see the empty room.
Your scent was still on my sheets, reminding me of what I had lost.
After a week, I opened your door. That scent was still there, taunting me and laughing as I cried again.
I cried until the tears weren't there, but the deep ache in my heart was there.
It's still here, becoming a sadistic companion for me.
They all told me to get over it, to move on with my life.
I try everyday, but there's always something to remind me of you.
Everything I do, everywhere I go. You are still there.
Those three words aren't simply words, they reach out with roots to plant themselves inside your heart.
Ripping them out only encourages faster growth. Like a weed.
How could they have changed so quickly? Those feelings of love and companionship.
When I said them, I made a promise. You promised me they wouldn't change.
What am I supposed to do with these leftover feelings of you?
It's all crumbling. My life is crashing down around me.
The things that keep me going and show me there is still great things in the world, are slowly disappearing.
And I fear as though, these tattered pieces that form to make up the puzzle that is me, are slowly shifting. Changing form and warping to create a puzzle that I don't recognize.
This silence burns like fire, melting the material that has become those pieces.
I am a walking disaster.
It's too late, I can't be saved.