Those Brown Eyes

XII. Divided

My whole life I have wondered why it is that people can fall out of love so easily. The simple answer is, well, that it wasn't love. Don't let anyone tell you that they once loved you, but don't anymore because love doesn't end; love goes on forever. And I'm not going to sit here and say there wasn't a time when I said I loved someone but it turned out to be false. I know the difference now, and I would never say the words "I love you" again unless they were true.

And you know what? After all this time I have discovered that one thing I told you was a lie: I can live without you. I've done it before and I can do it again, just not happily. Here's one big thing I told you that wasn't a lie: I was only ever truly happy when I was with you.

I'm not talking about the kind of happy you feel when you get a new pair of cute shoes, or finally get to see a movie you've been waiting to see—that kind fades. I'm talking about a happiness that is much deeper. A happiness you can only feel when you have found that thing you have been searching for all of your life.

I guess you would call that kind of happiness "being complete", because with you, I was not only happy I was whole too and if that wasn't real then I've lost faith in everything.

And goddamn it, sweetheart, because everyone dies but sometimes people die of heartbreak. That's up to the ones who created us though, right? They decide who lives and who dies and in this, you live and I die.

I believe that hell is a lonely place only because those who wander in it have lost everyone that could have saved them. And if that's the case, then I'm headed straight for hell.

I would go to hell a thousand times over if it meant you would find that happiness I had with you. I would do anything for you, and I guess that's why I'm so fucked up. I gave you everything until I was nothing and all you did was throw it all away. I gave you the most precious gift—my heart—and you took a hammer to it right in front of my eyes.

Listen, when I lost everything I stopped caring about myself. You cared enough to last a lifetime, and I know you have a big heart somewhere underneath that hard exterior. I've seen it.

Sometimes I feel like a cabin in the middle of the woods, isolated and forgotten, and no matter how much it hurts I can't ask for help because I'm unable to move from this damn spot. I have no voice, for I am void of spirit and soul. Fix me, save me, or engulf me in flames. I have no purpose here, and you alone can do something about that.

At night my mother is solemn and frail, tired from the day of trying to save me herself. Guilt floods me, why do I do this to her, to myself?

I still struggle with what to call you. I can't say the dreaded "E" word, and I can no longer call you my lover, so what should I call you; a memory, stranger who knows me better than I know myself?

Sometimes I'll see a certain photo of us and I'll wonder if you were thinking "someday I'm going to leave her" instead of looking at me with love like I so naïvely thought. Am I so blind to what love looks like manifested through someone's eyes? That thought hurts me so much because I think I may never trust again, and if that's true then I may never love again.

And you told me that you loved my natural brown hair, but when you left me I dyed it purple. You told me you thought I was more beautiful without makeup, but when you left me I started wearing it again every day. You told me you liked that I kept my nails short, and when you left me I grew them out long. I said I hated change, but you changed me so it can't all be bad.

I can't differentiate between reality and fantasy because when I was with you the two of them collided. And maybe this is just a bad dream, maybe I will wake up and you will be right there next to me saying that I was snoring and everything will be the same as it was.

I notice that my heart hurts more at certain times. Like when the weather changes, from summer to fall, from fall to winter, from winter to spring. Or when I pass by a particularly pretty place, wishing that you could be there with me to enjoy it.

And God, does it hurt when I smell something really good and you aren't there to smile at me and say that my nose wrinkles in that weird way. It feels like a blade slicing through my skin when I'm eating something sweet and you aren't there to tell me that I'm sweet enough already. I may have overdosed on sugar because I don't believe I'm sweet enough without you here.

It's like I'm missing an entire part of me, and yes I realize that my thoughts are scattered but that's the way I am without you. All I am is a fragmented piece of something that you wouldn't recognize if you saw me again one day. But maybe it's a good thing that you wouldn't know who I am now, because I wouldn't want you to see me this way. You've seen me at some pretty bad times but none like this, none like losing the love of your life makes you look.

Being without you makes me want to do insane things. Like stare into the sun until I can't see anything else anymore because that was the way it was like to look at you. Or cut my chest open to see why the hell it's hurting so much inside when there's nothing physically wrong with me; there's got to be a way to fix it!

I'm a walking nightmare. I couldn't even tell you my name if you asked me because all I can remember are the names that you once called me. I mean, God! If my name isn't "Button" or "My Everything" than what the hell could it be?

I hate that I can be somehow happy with shit that makes me sad. I hate that I'm so vain that I can't see myself in the mirror anymore. I hate that the sun can even shine on rainy days, but the thing that I hate the most is that I'm staring down at this bridge and I'm flying instead of falling.

So why can't I realize that the true meaning of happiness isn't realizing all the good you have in your life but rather all the bad that you don't have? Why can't I realize that the reason I don't have any friends is because I pushed them all away when I lost you? And why the hell can't I realize that the reason I don't have you anymore is because I stopped loving myself and you started to hate that about me?

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