#woodswing

The hurt hasn’t lessened any since the initial sting. I don’t know what, if anything, was real. 

I feel as though I’ve been reduced to nothingness. I feel foolish. I’m upset that I still long for you to send out some kind of sign; something that lets me know you meant everything. That this wasn’t some cruel trick and game played upon me.

I fear that this is all I’ll ever know; that happiness will only be a fleeting moment in my life as darkness and sadness are the only constant sovereigns. 

How could everything have felt so true, so good, and so real when you were lying to me with each kiss and every touch? 

Did you ever care about me?

I bared my heart to you, I let my soul soar, and I thought you felt the same because of your words and those gentle moments.

Were you only every comparing the two of us? Wishing I was her?

I’m sorry I found out. I’m sorry all of this came apart, and mostly I’m sorry for how utterly alone I feel; how I was so addicted to you, that without you, I feel like I’d rather not be a part of this world. 

Why? Why me?

Could you not see how brightly I burned for you? Could you really not know all my hope when you looked into my eyes? Or was it that I just didn’t matter in the end? 

I could never matter in the end, could I?

Even still, I can’t rail against you. I can’t find it in my heart to set out any meanness to you. I just keep seeing your face, I keep seeing your eyes, and I die with each instance of memory.

I am swept up in you, I’m afraid I always will be, and that I’ll never want to let go. 

You’ve let me go. You left me to drift, aimless, in this starless sea.

I pray that you’ve kept me alive in that room in your mind, behind the door with a dragonfly. I hope maybe that version of me is happy and in your arms, loved more than I have ever known in this waking-place where I feel so numbingly asleep, now.