Sadness

You're fading love. The burn is subsiding. I only miss the excruciating pain because it let me know that I was still in love with you. As it fades, so will my love. One day it will be completely extinguished and I'll no longer remember.

One more thing to mourn.

I hate that the prayers I really want answered aren't, while those I ask only because I know I should are.

Yesterday I cried

But only because of the embarrassment, shame, and extreme regret I felt when thinking of you

This morning I woke up and my first thought was about how you weren't my first thought. It wasn't accompanied by the usual shot of hot lightening through my heart. That made me panic because the moment that ceases, you'll cease and never come back. The emotional connection will be gone, and so will you.

The sweet freedom you asked for.

I wish you were here so I could look you in the eye and then turn and walk away, silently.

Tonight I regret you.

Everything.

I hate myself for all of it.

I wish I'd never met you.

I was better off not knowing.

When will it end?

I feel shackled. Totally and completely chained to misery and its almost unbearable heaviness. The fire continues to burn in my chest. I loath nights when there's nothing left to occupy my time and all I do is wait for the moment when I can knock myself unconscious and slip away from it all. Not that you don't haunt me in my dreams, becuase you do. Relentlessly. Can't I even have a moment without you? You've become too much for me to deal with.

Honestly.

When will you let go.


When will I let go.

I should have fought harder. I should have done more. I shouldn’t have sat back and let it all just happen.

I should have fought harder.

Sad Realization

No amount of tears will bring him back. If there were, he would have been resurrected a hundred times by now.

Who knew

Why is it I wake up every day and it's either the 17th or the 23rd? The two worst days to ever exist. Prime numbers are bad omens.

I can't miss you today because I am on the cusp of insanity. My feeling of worthlessness has peaked and if you were here I'm sure you'd be as disappointed in me as I am.

I hate the 23rd. It's just one more reminder of what it was like to be happy.

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.
C. S. Lewis

We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be"--C.S. Lewis

I miss you

9.14.08

9.14.08
In movies ghosts are gossamer shadows flicking around, pricking at your skin. But in reality they are the mill weights shackled around our necks that drag us down into the hellish fire and brimstone of grief’s cruel underworld. Your ghost haunts me daily, I live for the tender brief moments of relief when I am able to push you away and free myself of each soured memory. It’s agonizing to realize that the only balm for my soul is twisted anger. Not at you, surely, but at myself for believing water once turned into wine and that love is eternal.

In three days time = the 17th. The bloodiest of all bloody days. Three months of living in a hell even Satan shudders to consider.

My insides are on fire. Burning with grief, anger, disbelief, and denial. I don't know how many times I've thought it or begged God, this simply can't be over. You can't be gone. We belong together, we're made for each other. You are the half that makes the other worth while. I will gladly crawl 1,000 miles to be near you. Why did it have to be God? I can't resolve it. I can't deal with it. I can't believe it.

I just keep on burning.

I didn't sleep last night, up from 2 till dawn just trying to not think. Because all there is when I close my eyes is an empty darkness where you use to be.

So this is death. To wake up and realize the best part of you is missing, and never coming back. This is what it’s like to lose not only your love, but your best friend. This is what Lewis so eloquently described, the fear-like feeling of being robbed of everything you had, and everything you didn’t.

My life has been nothing but junk mail for the last two months, endless envelopes of useless trash filling my life. The rising stacks of empty day-to-day living are piling up all around me, each hour dropping another envelope on the already littered floor. You would think one as compulsive as I would sweep it into a pile and throw it away, or at least stack it neatly in a corner. But I don’t because among the credit card applications and insurance offers I imagine there’s a note from you, a promise that you’re coming back. The chaos keeps me safe from the truth.

Some days I’m able to live in anger and forced excitement as I relish in my voracious independence. I tell them I’m ready and pretend that filling my time with someone else is the much-needed anesthesia. It’s the lie I tell myself because I know that within hours you will drag me back to the pit of reality. Not you, but the haunting memory of you. You did it the other day in the car. Stuck in traffic I grabbed my notepad, reading my random scribbles, I turned a page and there you were: June 13 “I will always love you”. I wonder what the word ‘always’ even means. I think always ended on June 17th.

I pathetically carry my phone with me everywhere, hoping you'll call. You won't, and if you did you wouldn't be the you that left.