“I can’t blame anyone but myself for searching for you in every person I ever meet. But I blame you for being the best thing that has ever happened to me and not staying. How pitiful will it be to find someone that’s barely enough for me? How sad will it be to be with someone only because they remind me of you.”
•I miss you…•
It will be hard. Suddenly small things will become big and tricky, people will keep asking if you’re okay, and you will say yes because it’s easier, but really you’re hurting. You may have a period of time where you don’t want to eat much, because you feel sick at the thought of a world without them or you might eat too much, you might have sleepless nights but you might sleep to get away from it all. Everything will remind you of them. Occasionally you may just be getting along with your day and catch a scent that reminds you of a time you spent together, and suddenly you’re a mess. You might be having a great day with friends and out of the blue you have to excuse yourself because someone mentioned something related to them and you got that burning feeling in your throat again.
You may play moments you shared over and over and wonder whether you were stupid to end it, but please remember to not regret it. You made that decision for a reason and don’t go back to them just for fear of being lonely. You deserve someone who gives you the things that they didn’t give you.
The best thing you can do is fake it until you make it. Take photos of yourself laughing uncontrollably, dance around when nobody is watching, tell yourself you are better off without them, and slowly you will start to believe it. It may take weeks or months or years, but one day there won’t be a pile of screwed up tissues by your bed, and you won’t have that dream again. One day you won’t check their Facebook before you go to sleep, you will just fall asleep, the way you did before. One day you will be able to eat their favourite food without thinking about them. One day you will be able to go to that cinema where you had your first date, and you won’t be consumed with memories, you will just be going to see a movie.
They may still cross your mind occasionally, but one day you will wake up and they won’t be your first thought any more.
I said sorry because you made me feel like I had to. I didn’t say it because I was wrong. And I think that is where I messed up. Because every time I apologize for something you should be apologizing for, I’m giving you power over me. I’m letting you control me. And I’d be damned if I let another guy make me feel like I don’t have a choice.
dear body, I’m sorry for the scars on your back and slits on your hips, dressing your legs like your favorite skirt. I never meant to do you any harm, but along the way, my hands couldn’t help but strangle your throat and break at your rib cage. I’m sorry for the indent in your wrist when you lost so much blood, you blacked out. I’m sorry for hair too long and being dressed only in hospital gowns nowadays. dear stomach, I’m sorry for starving you. But when you twist and turn and tip and topple over while I’m walking or talking or simply sitting down, I loose my appetite. Everything tastes bitter now and I can see you sticking out from the bones of my rib cage. I’m sorry. dear lungs, I’m sorry the smoke was too much to bear and the bronchitis didn’t help. The doctors thought there was a tumor in you, but they told me you were fine. I guess the phlegm riddled with blood didn’t mean anything and not being able to breathe was clinically normal. dear hands, I’m sorry you had to do all the dirty work for me. From taking out blades to unscrewing prescription pill bottles, I’m sorry for your tapping tantrum and calloused palms. But most of all, I’m sorry for dragging you across the skin of the people I used to love who could never love me. dear legs, I’m sorry you carry the weight of the world. I am nothing more than a burden of baggage and I’m sorry you have to lug me around all day long. If only you could run again, or maybe even walk. Drop the bags on the airport floor and let the wobble in your knees take over. It’s time for you to give out. dear brain, I’m sorry for cussing at you and hitting my head against the wall until you couldn’t function anymore. I’m sorry for the bruises inside my mind and on the outskirts of my forehead. I wish you had more happy chemicals so that I could be normal again, but I was never normal in the first place. dear heart, You’re mangled and wretched and broken and torn. But your still beating. Give it up. Your beat has slowed and come to a standstill. I can’t hear you anymore. Stop falling in love with people you can’t have. Stop beating for the people who leave you in a pile of flesh and bone. dear face, Maybe if you weren’t so ugly, people would’ve liked you more. Your crooked nose is unattractive and your lips are hideous. Your head is disfigured and your eyes are misshapen. Why do you have to be so unsightly? Why do you have to be the first thing I see in the mirror? dear neck, I’m sorry for the hickeys scattered around from strangers and the feeling of his hand around you still lurking in the sheets. I’m sorry you ever hung from a noose and that the ceiling fan had broke. If only you had hung there longer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. dear hips, I wish you had grown wider instead of inside out. You cave in at my sides and I hate the way that looks. I wish you could be like the prettier girls but no matter how much I tried, you were practically never there. dear me, I’m sorry for ever being born. If I had a choice, I would go back and make sure you never existed. But we’re here, and the walls have shut in on two hands and a heartbeat. But I can’t hear that heart beating anymore. There’s no use in living when the ground is giving out and the world won’t stop shaking. If this body was meant to be home for me, I would’ve already settled in. But 16 years have come and gone and I’m ready to tear the roof off of this place and burn down every wall until theres nothing left but soot in the ashtray next to my lit cigarette. If you were ever home to me, I’m sure I would’ve known. But all you ever were to me was simply skin and bones.
