Late at night I cry, wondering why.

So many time I’ve ripped the bandaid off a wound that never seems to heal. The pain still lingers.

Where are you?

Are you ok?

Are you happy?

Do you think of me?

It feels like forever and I’ve lived through longer.

In the deepest depths of my soul, I cry…

Ever wondered where you’re headed?

Will life take us to the same places, will accidents happen?

I am losing hope. Maybe that’s best.

Thousands of miles traveled, not a single glance… no accident. No you. When will I see you again?

I am fickle and a bit bitter… I have a gaping hole in my heart and sadness consumes my soul.

Have you completely erased me from your memory?

There’s nothing.

No response. No interaction. That’s life in the backseat.

I want more and that is fading with time. Is that a good thing or will I circle back to these emotions in a decade when so much time has passed without you by my side and my soul misses yours.

How am I so strong, so resilient except for this.

Why am I doing this to myself? I need to focus my efforts on so many more important things.

The rose-colored glasses have a delightful appeal, masking the dull, looming pain of the grieving process.

We tell ourselves that we are ok, that we will make it… but will we? It’s one thing to know that there’s nothing between two people and move on without looking back. It’s another to always feel like one day you will wake up and that day will be the day you feel ok, that it’s all been just a really bad nightmare.

Truth be told, the pretty little lies I’ve been telling myself… that I’ll be ok, that at least I eventually found out how he felt and I wasn’t losing my mind when he got married… it’s all just a load of shit.

The reality… He’s not here, you’re not there. There’s nothing. There’s no future, only a past riddled with indiscretions and broken hearts.

My soul misses his, I feel dead inside. I did this to myself and so I must trudge on living a life of denial and hoping I wake up one day healed.