The Things I'll Never Get To Say

#39

Heartbreak isn't beautiful.

It isn't fucking poetry, it's not staying up until four am listening to sad songs.

It's breaking down in the middle of a busy street. It's seeing their face in all the people you pass by.

It's feeling okay for weeks at a time and then all of a sudden, you feel the ghost of their lips and fingers in your hair and then you're choking on memories of their presence.

It's waking up from dreams of them coming back and screaming in the middle of the night because you chest hurts like your heart has been ripped out of your body.

Don't act like anything about heartbreak is beautiful, because I wouldn't wish that feeling upon the worst of my enemies.