One day, it’ll hit you. Hard. Maybe you’ll be drinking your morning coffee and you’ll remember how her bright lipstick always left the most distinctive stain on her cup. Maybe you’ll be in your closet trying to find a hoodie to wear and you’ll remember the numerous amount of them that you left at her place. Even after she’d reminded you to grab them you’d say “Ill leave it, because then I have an excuse to come back.”
Maybe you’ll drive by that intersection of the coffee shop you first met her at and think back to when your hands pushed that door open to reveal possibly the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, sitting in the far back working on her college courses with a pile of books in front of her. Or maybe you’ll be looking for someone else, realizing that you’re trying to drown her out with failed attempts of finding someone who is just like her. Soon enough, you’ll be trying to numb the pain of missing her by filling your empty stomach with pain killers and what’s left of the bottle that you couldn’t quite top off the last time you thought about her. Soon enough, you’ll be driving with no destination with no knowledge of where you’re going other than wanting it to be far away from the pounding memories of her. The tears will keep coming and you’re bound to text her with nothing coming through on her end but the fact that she doesn’t want you anymore, written in bold and plastered all over the cracks in your windshield when you realize that it’s 3 am and you’re lying on the cold hard ground with your vehicle rolled over beside you. It’ll hit you when you come back to conscientiousness and realize that familiar faces are piled around you, with your best friends dad on top of you trying to warm your cold body but you can’t tell the difference because you’ve felt that cold since she left you. It’ll hit you when you’re in an ambulance and your body is numb, screaming only from the pain of her not wanting anything to do with you. It’ll hit you when the police officer you had trouble with for the past 6 years is holding your hand comforting you and reassuring you that he won’t leave, and you’ll be wishing it was her mouth those words were coming out of instead. It’ll hit you when your nurse shares the same name as her and she’s lecturing you the same way she would be if she was still in your life. It’ll rip you to shreds and cut you to pieces, just like when the EMT cut her sweatpants off of you and you realized that the last thing you had of hers was just destroyed. It’ll hit you when you’re read your rights while lying in a hospital bed and the only thing you’re concerned about is whether or not you’re going to get her back. It’ll hit you when the paramedics tell the man who first found you that if he had found you 5 minutes later, you would have been dead. You’ll wish those 5 more minutes would have passed so you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of missing her. Trust me, it’ll hit you. And when it hits you, it hits you hard. You’ll recover from the physical injuries you endured that night but you won’t recover from her.
