Repeat

Out Of My Head

 a song with a great acoustic version ->

To shut out feeling lonely,

I get out of my head,

Lost everything around me,

Not dealing with it well,

To shut out feeling lonely,

I get out of my head,

Why would you love somebody

when love hurts in the end?

* *

       * *

Sixteen weeks since you’ve been gone. Sixteen weeks. The longest I’ve been without you since we met. It feels longer than a decade. And I can’t believe you’re gone. Your name echoes through my head at the most random times. And when someone says it, I feel like someone stabbed me in the chest. I hear your name a lot. Screw you for having a common name. Screw you for having a name that is a month as well. Screw you. Or maybe screw me too, because sometimes I hear your name without someone saying it.

To me, you were my world. And with making you my world, I broke the number one rule: never let someone become your entire world. Your entire world isn’t supposed to depend on one, measly person. At least, that’s what my parents taught me when one day, I came home from my playdate and told them I was going to marry Emy. Because she was my whole world. I was eight, totally infatuated with the stupid girl, entirely convinced that without her I couldn’t live. I was eight for God’s sakes. It was painfully obvious that even back then I had no trouble handing over my heart. My mom had grabbed my hand, and told me that she wasn’t, in fact, my whole world, just as Nathalie and Kim hadn’t been. She and dad had been protecting me from myself since they found me crying on the stairs after Kim told me she wasn’t in love with me anymore. Any other kid would have laughed and shrugged it off, but me, being the over sensitive boy who had been capable of loving someone so young, couldn’t and called in sick for the next three days. Then, my mother had had enough and carried me to school. I was such a naïve kid, because the next day I happily announced to my parents that I was going to marry Nathalie instead, and in the next week the entire cycle repeated.

Sometimes, I hated myself. No, scratch that, most of the time I hated myself. Because I was overly sensitive, kept on giving everything I had to every girl I dated, because I hated the crushing feeling I got when a girl told me I was too much. I was too involved. I was too sensitive, I was too attached. And then, I would watch them walk away with yet another douche bag with fear of commitment, my eyes filling with tears again. But you, you were different. I told you everything on the first date; my problems, my fears, my sadness. I didn’t know why, but something in your big brown eyes made me trust you, and you smiled after hearing me out and you told me you would love to be part of my cycle of falling in love. And you also told me you would skip the breaking up part, because we had a click. And we did. But you lied that day, as you didn’t skip the breaking up part but went over it thoroughly, causing the most painful heartache I had ever experienced, which is quite an achievement. Be proud of it. Wear the knowledge you crushed me like a crown. Be the princess you always were, deep inside.

Nothing is safe from you, did you know that? Everything reminds me of you. The curtains in my apartment, how you would wake up early every day to open them and soak in the sunlight, or sometimes even rain. The kitchen, because you loved to cook and banned me from it. I still don’t go there a lot, only for the necessary things. It reminds me of you. My head is spinning with you, with every sentence you’ve ever said. Perks of having a photographic memory, I guess. Never before have I hated that part of me more. I remember every silly little thing about you, and sometimes when I wake up, I can see you lying next to me, and I remember your scent. And I hate that.