It was an urge… A strong urge, and the longer I let it go the stronger it got, to where I was taking risks to go out and kill people-risks that normally, according to my little rules of operation, I wouldn’t take because they could lead to arrest.
I don’t have the urge to jump in front of cars anymore. Or to swallow a bottle of pills so I can sleep forever. I don’t skip meals anymore, or scream until I have no voice. I don’t shove people away as much. I go out and hang with friends. I would like to say I’m cured. But that would be a lie. The truth is; I’m just okay. Because yes the above is true, but I still occasionally have intrusive thoughts that cross my mind. I don’t always look when crossing the street. And sometimes I’ll take more sleeping pills then the bottle recommends. And sometimes I’ll scratch myself to leave that comforting mark that calms me down but if you were to ask me “how are you doing?” I would probably lie and say “I’m doing well.” Because yes I feel like my world is dim, but I no longer feel like I’m drowning.
I’ll keep my head above the surface just long enough to catch my breath.
I think it was over for me when I realized I was more in love with the memories than I was with the person right in front of me. I was always apologizing for hurting you with my abundance of words, yet I was the one on the floor with blood streaming down my body from your words that felt like knives.
It took a long time for me to stop feeling the familiar pang in my chest when our song came on shuffle, and it took time to have thoughts in my mind that were more worth words on paper than you were. It took the longest to be able to see myself with someone else, see myself without you.
I have admitted to myself that I have been talking about you like you aren’t already gone. I have turned over our past in my palms and looked at all the ugliness and bitter emotions I have been hiding from myself for so long. Maybe it wasn’t always heaven, maybe it was hell. After all, the devil isn’t always red with a pitchfork; sometimes the devil has brown hair and blue eyes that are easy to get lost in, which is exactly what I did.
Well, I am finding myself again. I scraped myself clean and now I’m rebuilding myself from the ground up. I will get the urge to call you and say, “Look at me now, I have changed, I’m new”, but I never do because I know better than to let myself get caught in your orbit again. My self-love is stronger than my urge.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you work for it, people just don’t fit together. I may die for you, but I won’t live for you.