Wednesday, May 5
When does it get better? They say to give it time, that it heals all wounds. But, I swear to God, the days just seem to become more unbearable, much longer, much darker.
Some days, I think, "I'm OK." Some days it doesn't hurt me as much to know you no longer play a role in my life anymore. And I think, perhaps accepting that fact that you're not here can finally free me. Finally, I can move on from you, I can smile again without having to hear your voice.
I can let go.
But then, most days, most nights, my chest aches so much from the pain. A pain of a spark burning out. For everyday I had spent with you, I felt something ignite inside of me. A feeling I couldn't explain, a feeling I knew I didn't want to experience with anyone else.
And it hurts because when you left, so did that feeling.
— — — —
I guess there's no real shortcut to missing someone. You just have to endure each dreadful day until you don't anymore.
YOU ARE READING
21 days.
Short StoryA journal. A pen. A heartbreak. A path to recovery. Not all drugs are in the form of a pill or a stick. Sometimes, it's brown eyed, kissed-swollen lips and a thumping heart.
