Last night, I watched a movie.
And that's where it began again.
It showed a couple with two kids,
that got divorced, then ended up in love again.
But why isn't real life like this?
My parents will never be like this.
It was all just a fantasy.
It's not realistic, it's heart breaking.
I'm not even sure how I could still want this.
It was such a good day,
with church and everything.
And then I felt my heart in fragments,
simply broken, as if it had never been whole to begin with.
I cried until i couldn't handle it.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't focus.
So then, I simply sharpened my mind,
and let the pain consume me.
I cried myself to sleep,
and I know he could hear me.
But truly, he doesn't care.
So then I did it again.
Every couple days, I break down and gasp for breathe.
I struggle with my words and lash out at those that laugh.
I pretend to smile, then cry for another hour.
I promise I've stopped, then cover up to be sure they don't know the truth.
I panic and pout, and die a little more each time.
I'm not even sure what I'm doing to myself,
but it's better than asking anyone else for help.
They tell me to move on or grow up,
but my eyes won't open, my heart stays tight shut,
even as it knows it's continuing to be broken.
And I'm okay with all of this pain,
all of the tears,
all of the sleepless nights and day terrors.
All of this, because I just can't face reality.
Not yet.
Maybe never,
but especially not now.
