• Still hurts

    by  • November 7, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, Betrayal • 0 Comments

    Awake at this ridiculous time; its become habit now.
    A few seconds before the pain kicks in, and so begins another day of missing you terribly.
    I ought to know better. I do know better. My treacherous heart won’t let you go, though
    Every day I replay the good, the bad, and the ugly of our time together.
    Every day is a turmoil of emotions
    Sometimes I plan exacting revenge, sometimes I feel numb, but always I love you.
    Why were you so cruel? Surely I deserved respect, at least?
    I had no idea it was coming, no clue.
    There hasn’t been a day when I’ve not cried for the loss of you. Not one single day, and I already have so much to cope with.
    Trying to get things done is hard: having to return home because I can’t control when or where the tears will start falling.
    I would like to think that you feel sad, at least occasionally.
    Maybe not. I just wanted to say that I miss you. I miss you. I miss you..
    The idea of never touching your face again is incomprehensible.
    I really did/do love you.
    I don’t suppose our paths will ever cross again:how could they? But the thought is unbearable: the reality of it like a knife in my guts.
    It literally is physically painful, my missing you.
    I’ve taken the hardest of knocks in my life, but this one is right up there with the worst of them.
    I’m reeling with pain, confusion, and disbelief.
    You really have broken me.
    I’ll never get over this..
    You’ve broken me beyond belief. You may as well have butchered me with a knife.
    I hope you sleep soundly at night, content in the belief that youre a kind, compassionate person, who believes in karma, and strives to spread love.
    I wish I had the benefit of being able to shut out anything unpalatable, like you do. Selective thinking.
    How can you honestly look at yourself and not find anything lacking?
    It breaks my heart to see K crying for the loss of you from her life, as well as mine.
    Ramble, ramble, ramble. Just me rambling to try and make sense of it all.
    And who cares, really?
    Not you, sadly.
    I miss you though. I really do.

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