No I am not okay. My Monday coffee doesn’t bring me out of the funk I am in no matter how hard I try ; not at 4 am on Monday morning, not at 3 pm on Thursday afternoon. Nothing works. Not a whole day spent with friends and foes trying desperately to forget about you, about our precious memories together. About how great your neck always smells and how your fries-eggs pizza combo just rocks my world. As I write this I am very well sobbing my whole heart out. In my defense, I’m listening to Adelle’s album which is not helping the situation one bit.
My whole life right now is an endless roller-coaster of trying to look strong and plastering a fake smile across my face to everyone and anyone all the while crumbling inside. In closed quarters you will find me listening to a lot of sad songs and re-watching PS: I LOVE YOU a million times, crying profusely mind you. Gerard Butler is such a great actor and oh soo beautiful man himself, but It’s the story line I relate to more. So he dies before his time, leaving behind the love of his life grief struck. However, my man left her letters to be delivered periodically after his death. See, someone I love terribly with all my life just died inside of me, he’s moving on, and my heart does not know how to deal with it. The difference however, in my story he did not leave me letters to comfort me and keep me going until his memory fades a little. The fade, that’s what I can’t seem to quite get a hold of. Fade now ,F A D E !!
I still remember how I felt when I first met you. How I tried to think of things to say those first days, how texting you was all I looked forward to. I know that says a lot about where my priorities lie, you will have to deal with it for now. I still remember how cute you looked when you asked me my name, cutting in on a conversation with a friend of mine. I was probably taken that very moment. Notice I don’t use the word ‘fallen’ because love is about rising, not falling. Never falling. But as I sit here why does it feel so much like falling. Falling from the fifth floor balcony of our flats in that low income neighborhood I call home. Falling so hard and fast with no parachute all the while loving it only to hit the ground and the painful reality hits me without remorse. He’s gone, quite literally at that.
Remember how awful the first dinner I ever made us was. Insert laughing emoji with tears. How we ended up buying milk later in the night. How we laughed about the whole ordeal long into our not so happy ever after. No sweetheart, that’s not at all how I remember it. I remember how anxious I was about cooking a meal for you for the first time and in turn over spicing and ruining everything. I remember how encouraging and supportive you were about it all. How you did actually try to clear your plate with a pleasant face trying to be the brave soldier I’ve always known you to be. Yes we clowned about it but you delicately ensured it wouldn’t hurt me. You see, it is precisely because of this and much more that I cannot seem to stop the free flowing tears running, no actually gushing out of my eyes. Like a waterfall full of pain and hurt. I also remember the first meal you ever prepared for me. Making comparisons would deem my cooking skills amateurish but my word that meal was perfect. No my judgement wasn’t blurred by my love for him, I take my food very seriously. I am simply giving credit where its due.
The demons lurking in the shadows in my mind have your name on most of them. There’s a war waging inside my head, in my heart. I really believed you were my missing piece in the puzzle that is my life. With all the things wrong with me and everything surrounding me, you were my light, my hope, my strength. You did not judge me and loved me in all my flaws, crevasses and insecurities. Every time I was with you time slowed down and I somehow forgot to breath. How am I to learn how to breath again now?
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