thoughts from a dark hole

pillow

There's all those nights I never tell you of, when I cry with my face in my pillow, so no one has to hear the sound of pain. The pain of heartbreak that feels like it'll never go away. The way you make me feel when you post a picture with your arms around her. And I shriek and yell, but inside my head, where it's safe and you won't see. I cry until my entire body aches and I want to stop, but I can't, because if I did, I'd have to start all over again.

And there's the nights when you're so happy, it's as if I can feel it in my very being. A stirring that makes me want to run around my room and yell at the thoughts that want to drag me down. The nights when we text hello and cordial things, but never anything more.

But when I see you beside me, I feel nothing except a vast expanse of emptiness. As if everything we touch disintegrates, until there's nothing left of who, and what, we used to be. It's like watching that sandcastle you spent hours building being washed out by the tide, because you simply didn't realize it was too close to the water.

When I see her, I want to both strangle her and kiss her. She makes you so happy, and I suppose that should make me happy, right? But no. I want to be the eye candy on your arm, the one you write your love songs about. I want to strangle her when the tiny piece of my brain says it's her fault that you're gone, when, in actuality, I know it's my fault.

I ignored you, so you went and moved on. I didn't mean to ignore you, I was just mad and didn't want to say anything I didn't mean in the heat of the moment. Are you mad at me? I think so. It's my fault and I'm so sorry. But it almost feels as if you don't care. A simple 'goodbye' and now everything's different.