I can listen no longer in silence

“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago… I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant…For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this?” – Captain Wentworth, Persuasion

It is as if nothing ever existed. There were you and me, and then there was emptiness all around. Emptiness can be scary, but if tolerated long enough it comforts, even satisfies. No blissful ups, no heartbreaking downs, no never-ending hopes nor crippling betrayal. As time goes by, you learn to live with yourself, you learn to rely on you and grow happy with your freedom. You think that you are so mature, your heart so strong now that nothing in the world can hurt you as it used to, and more importantly no one.

But one day there comes a storm. A lighting strike illuminates the world around you and you see the things as they are, naked of illusions you’ve created. The reality breaks through the walls of your beloved emptiness and erases the boundaries of your comfort zone, ripping the protective wire you spent so long wrapping around your heart. And there he is, standing in the rain in front of you, and he is the same, and you find yourself utterly unprepared, not strong at all, in fact the weakest thing in the entire world, and it’s as if the last two and a half years apart were never lived. It’s as if you never let him go, as if you never ruined your happiness and his. 

 

I felt my heart skip a few beats and my body shake profusely the minute I heard he was in the country. Memories started flooding my head and the more I remembered, the harder I cried. The room went dark for a second and I had to grab the nearest wall to maintain my balance. Not only have I felt every emotion possible, but I was utterly unprepared to feel so much and so suddenly, and worst of all, I had absolutely no hope of any of these feelings ever being mutual again. I knew he had every right to distance himself. I suspected he’d never forgive me and I have come to terms with losing him, or almost have. I thought I had all the strength in the world, but I had none. I thought I had no love left in me, but I had it all.
 

So I gathered a few bits of courage and wrote to him. I dropped only a couple of lines, asking about his trip, staying neutral in tone and struggling not to give away any signs of my pain. The rest of the day seemed like forever. I heard nothing. I cried more, I drank a bit and I cried again. The following morning I woke up to a note from him. There wasn’t much said, but he responded, and that fact alone made me grow wings and fly through the day. We exchanged a few more words and those words gave me more hope than is probably healthy. I am no Anne, he’ll never be my Captain Wentworth and real life rarely grants us with happy endings. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

Yesterday's rain (watering down memories)

Pain makes man think. Thought makes man wise. Wisdom makes life endurable. ~ John Patrick

You've got to make a conscious choice every day to shed the old - whatever 'the old' means for you. ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach

The scent of bathing grass and dust disturbed by water hits my nostrils. I open the window wider and inhale deeper, savoring the relief brought by rain. I close my eyes and a subtle tune wakes my thinking.

…I've seen your flag on the marble arch,
But love is not a victory march,
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah…

I used to make a step ahead and two back. Why did you hold on to me for so long? When was it, the moment you won over the control that I thought was mine? Was it the morning you wrote to say I was the first thought of your day? Was it the afternoon you yelled about your feeling out loud, making the world hear, making me blush and finally believe you? Was it the sunset on that violet hill, the one I naively imagined to be ours, until a simple note on the wall told me the opposite? I chose to close my eyes and pretend, for the longest time, that I saw a bad dream. I ran away and cried that night, but when you found me red-eyed, I lied about the cause of my tears. I shielded myself from the obvious for too long, fearing the pain it would bring. I let it in slowly, one day at a time, as if giving my body a chance to build up defense against your poison, as if letting my mind come to terms with the bitterness of it. How symbolic, I thought, when they closed our hangout place. I knew it was time for me to leave, long before I had the guts to do so.

…Well, maybe there's a God above,
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you…
It's not a cry that you hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light,
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah…

I have written a short story, and it’s the first one I have ever finished. Short of inspiration, you were the cause of it. See, inspiration is too good of a word to be in one sentence with you. I have been debating for the longest time between posting it and not, and it’s still in the "not" stage. I don’t think I am ready quite yet, because I still remember.

........................................
…And the holy dove was moving too,
And every breath we drew was hallelujah…

I make two steps ahead and one back now, or maybe only half back. This summer has been cleansing, just like that rain. It’s slowly washing away every thought of you, every idea of “us.” It’s been a long time and I think I am ready to feel again.

Please, let me go now.

Currently listening: Chasing Pavements by Adele

These months

I open the windows
It’s getting cold in here
Everything’s drying up
And the windows stay open
I used the word I know nothing of
I wanted to save, but I gave
I gave it away
And now
These months
These months are so still
These months
These months are so still

What’s in my head now
Needn’t be seen
Remember I called you
To see how you were
You hadn’t changed
Remember I ran into you in the dark
You hadn’t changed
And now in the leaves that drape the ground
The unwelcoming of your door
There’s a light that sees, I
I don’t think I love you anymore
But these months
These months are so still
These months
These months are so still

And there are times that I think about you
That I think surely still I must love you
Still know you…

~ Asha Ali

* * *

These months I am trying to snooze through an absolute inevitability of every new day without you. These thoughts are scattered across the room, surrounding me as I beg them for only some space, only some freedom to be. I keep organizing physical objects as if their awkward untouchable order will let me gather these emotions into some neat little pile of understanding, while they keep sliding and turning back into the shifting sand of which they were built.

These dreams march into my bed from the times and places where maybe one day I belonged, although it seems to have been a couple of lifetimes ago. These memories carry pain on their shoulders, the kind that fills my mind and leaves my heart empty. It’s only when thinking of you joins in however – or the absence of you right here in this room, where your shadow is needed by this lamp, and your ear by the song I am whispering, and your cheek by the brush of my arm, that accidental one, you know, in the midst of a dream – that I break down, and see the world spin, and lose myself in the dark, and never want to believe in light again. I lack you so much today, I get covered with cold and I drown in the feeling so overwhelming it sucks life out of me. It puts my strength into a shabby bag, the crude one with no holes in it, letting no sun reach my thinking.

I miss you today to the point where I’m determined to never miss you again. I am so tired of loving you, so, so tired. I wish you didn’t infiltrate me all the way to my blood, and dissolve in me, and uplift me to such heights only to drain me dry and leave me empty and throw me down so low, again and again.

I’d live for you, if only you were worth living for.

Second chances?

She wants to be like
the water...

I can’t speak. I close my eyes and I glide on a smooth surface. Downstream. I can’t think. I am just lying there, letting the current pull me wherever it chooses. I can’t write. My words are sinking. I can’t fight. It’s as if my hands and my feet are tied with some invisible water bonds, which I can’t resist. I have no will to swim against the tide. I watch the waters get faster, angrier. I watch small rocks lurk out. I am still on the safe side, I can still turn around and swim back, knowing the danger is ahead, knowing I should not let myself rush through these rapids again, knowing there will be pain of falling. Please don’t pull me toward you now that I am almost cured of this pain.

...wish it were simple
But we give up easily

I think I reached a shore at some point, back then, after fighting so hard with the cold of the river. I think I actually sat there for a moment and let the water dry off my face. I heard the quiet music in my head and I sang to it... and danced, and watched the clouds gallop by, and smiled at them... I smiled! But then I saw you swim by and I plunged in again. Am I really going to let go so easily of all that I fought for? I don’t want to feel comforted by your presence. I want to be able to make it on my own. Was this new strength I thought I gained just an illusion? Here I am, not swimming forward, not swimming back. Floating.

You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world
to me...

Why is it so hard to just close my eyes and pretend you are not here? Why is it so hard to listen to reason and decide what’s right to feel? To feel what’s right... What’s right? The thing is, in my mind, I don’t want you back. I just have to negotiate it with my heart somehow. It is tricky, because heart wants reward here and now, it wants redemption for its suffering, it wants a blanket tucked around it, it wants to go to bed cozy. It’s like a child, demanding attention, thinking of itself as the center of the world, not knowing it can’t really see further than today, further than the chest it’s in.

Can you help me?
Can you let me go?
And can you still love me
When you can't see me anymore...

People who saw us last night might have thought we are a happy couple. But that's what they thought back then too, while we were sticking knives into each other’s hearts. Back again? And you really think you can build something steady on a pile of ruins?

I subside to the sound of your voice. My strength withers and I forgive easily. I know what’s right for me, but I don’t seem to be strong enough to act upon it. Maybe not quite yet. I am afraid of the mistakes I am about to make.


Lyrics from Other Side of the World by KT Tunstall

You look, I die

I can write a pile of sentences, reread them and don’t find myself. They are often not good enough. They lack the strength to dig deep, take it out and spill it on paper. Bleeding heart calls for writing in blood and all I see is black ink on a dull white paper. Nonsense. Friday was good and I even believed I was getting better. And then came Saturday. You looked. I died. Again.

I want to take you off
Like summer hat in fall
Throw off your arms like gloves
That wouldn’t keep me warm
No more
Shake drops of voice
Out of my ears
Soaked in the cold
Of ruthless storms
Your words
Wipe off that touch
Out of the creases
Of my palm
You stick to me
Cling to my thinking
Roll down the spine
With drops of sweat
Making me shiver
In aching dreams
Can’t loving die
So I can live
Instead
Wait not just yet
Resists the heart
In which small room
Is filled with charcoals
Blue and orange
And amber
Like your world
I throw them in the fire
Where your ice
Is melted
Your picture out of the corner
Looks into me
I read a smile
In picture’s eyes
Half-closed
Half-opened
Hate never came
Into this room
It never will
My eyes meet yours
Half-closed
Half-opened
Was ever love
Inside your look
Did I misread it
Did I
Just throw your picture in the fire
My shaking hands
Are burnt
But it won’t burn
I cover it with charcoals
They turn to flowers
You still look
Right back into me
Your eyes
Half-closed
Half-opened
Your soul
Half-naked
Half... I’ll never know
And of that look
I die.

Before Sunrise

I believe if there's any kind of God it wouldn't be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.

- Celine in Before Sunrise

I was standing outside last night, looking at the man on the moon. An insignificant spot on the face of eternity, he’s larger than us in some ways... smaller in so many others. I was looking at a swallow’s nest over my porch. I’m not sure how long it’s been there but the birds are long gone. They must have flown away to a better place, carrying their dreams on their wings, leaving my porch with an empty nest. My dreamless porch.

I am doing better at times. I think my mind is ready to move on, telling me there’s no reason to cry over someone who doesn’t care. But the pain still wakes me up in the middle of the night, every night.

I look back at this summer. There is a strong temptation to forget certain people, moments or days; but I don’t give in to it. It might be good to not have lived some of those days, but would it be right? I believe our mistakes are there for a reason. They remind us of our human flaws. They help us grow.

I look back at the day of the big fight, when I stood up for your right to take the opposite side and, as a result, lost my friend. There is another painful memory from that night, that of you slamming the car door and walking away. But you know, I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t skip that evening even if I knew what was coming. I wouldn’t try to save my friendship. I wouldn’t stop you from walking away. Because when you caught up with me at a stoplight a minute later, you told me that you loved me. I will eventually forget the tremendous negativity of that night, but I will treasure the fact that you and I were able to leave it all behind so easily, driving away into the night.

I look back even further and I see us in a friend’s garage at 7 a.m. in the morning, after just talking the night away. I see us going through a car wash twice, enjoying the little streams rolling down the windows in this rainless land, lowering the backs of our seats to lay down and listen to some quiet music, savoring the simple bliss of the moment. I see us walking through the farmer’s market closer to noon, without a single hour of sleep the night before but with our reflections still fresh and clear in each other’s eyes. You carrying the fruits for me. Your smile a reflection of a morning sun. I see us in your room, going though your family photographs. Your books. Your paintings. You making hot dogs in the kitchen. Me drinking juice from the bottle. You had no cups. You lying on the floor in an empty room, looking at the sun caught in the texture of my dress as I stand in the doorway. That dress looked tired of your witty remarks over the last 24 hours. I wasn’t. Remember? Us sitting on a staircase in your hallway, speaking about the meaning of life. You handing me a book to take home with me. You waving goodbye to me on my way out, then rushing down the staircase to give me a hug. One perfect hug. My hand shaking behind your back holding the heavy fruits. You releasing me just to ease my burden. Our shadows crossing one last time on the pavement, one unwilling to leave, another unwilling to let go.

That was our own Before Sunrise, wasn’t it. That night was the whole world, the perfect world in which we had lived and breathed each other before the real life began. Before your friends didn’t get along with mine. Before I pushed you away. Before your heart grew cold, unwilling to forgive my fear of love. I think it will take me years to get over that one night, an eternity to forget the perfect fusion of our thoughts, ideas, feelings and dreams.

I don’t want to remember anything else from this summer.

Dreaming with a broken heart

When you're dreaming with a broken heart,
The waking up is the hardest part,
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe...

- John Mayer

I roll out and I wonder... were you really here?

You were, just the night before, and after two long weeks of excruciating pain that burned my body and engulfed my thoughts every minute of every day, for a moment there I believed we could actually be happy together. Were you really here, holding my hand, or was it just a sweet dream, a short flashback in my crazy imagination... You came back into my life, but how could I be so wrong as to think that you came to stay? We walked on the grass barefoot. You told me about my nose in your paintings. You reminded me once again how you can touch my heart with the simplest things that you say. As I drove to work, the morning sky reminded me of your palette and I wished I could blend in with it, becoming the perfect tone of your skin, the shape of your cheeks when you give me that kind smile of yours or at least a note in one of your favorite melodies, so you could hum me every now and then.

You gave me hope but you wouldn’t let me anywhere near your heart. I felt slowly falling — the wind rushing though my body like the tiny pieces of broken glass — all the way down, to the very bottom of my pain.

Have I pushed you away that far? I wish you knew all the way that I loved you no matter what I did or said. I wish I didn’t do or say the things that made you run away. I’ll go hide my tears behind the rain, wondering how many more nights I will have to die before I can let you go.

Don't look back

I slowly peel the label off a beer bottle. Alone in the dark, my beer bottle and I, and added to our company are now the hair-thin pieces of paper. I asked you that last night, when you were still around, not to do so. Why did it matter? I don’t know why.

I walk around the patio philosophically holding my cigarette, just like you did, pretending to be a smoker. I take off my shoes and walk across the lawn barefoot. I taught you that one and you liked it. We both leaned to the ground and I told you the grass on that lawn was fake. You agreed. Did we really have so little in common? I made mistakes and you might not ever give me a chance to correct them. I was tired and unsure, but did I really take so many wrong steps as to deserve the ice-cold bucket of harsh words you poured on me that Sunday morning? The world gets wet and salty every time I think that you might have gone from loving to hating. I am so angry I’d jump at you and beat you up the moment I saw you for what you did to my heart, and I’d beat you even more for doing it intentionally. I’d beat you till you bleed just as I have been all these days. Yet I am so scared to even think I might never see you again.

As I send a little smoke puff up into the sky, I notice a trillion stars up there. I find the brightest one and wish, almost beg the fate, the sky, the summer wind and anyone or anything in this world that might listen, I beg them all to make you look at it too. I don’t know why.

I walk back into the room and leave the patio door open. My heart falls down each time the wind touches the blinds, sounding just like you coming back from one of your short smoke breaks… The loud music wakes me up from this conscious dream and sadly, it’s your music. My eyes make a frantic attempt to run away from your shoes in the corner, but like a helpless child in the dark they stumble upon your book on the coffee table instead. There's too much of you in this place, reminding me constantly of the friendship we didn't treasure... the love that wasn't ours to keep.

Unable to tolerate the loneliness of the room and the wind’s foul play with my senses, I take off into the night. I don’t put the seatbelt on. I used to get angry at you for not doing so. Why did it matter? Wait, I know the answer to this one. Because I didn’t want you to leave any time soon.

Here’s what I want to say…

Why would I wanna see you now?
To fix it up, make it up somehow.
Baby I'll try again, try again,
Baby I die every night, every time.

But what comes out instead is…

You're leaving so soon,
Never had a chance to bloom,
But you were so quick
To change your tune.
Don't look back
If I'm a weight around your neck,
Cause if you don't need me
I don't need you.

Thanks, Keane, for the words that give meaning to my pain.

Broken

Sometimes words hide from me when I need them the most. Sometimes I wish I could speak in tears, in looks, in songs… in silence. If you ever listened to my silence, I mean really listened, you’d hear the beat of the loneliest heart in the world. You knew I was vulnerable but you chose to hurt me nevertheless. I get up and I fall again. I lean on walls. The world is spinning. I hear your voice, again and again. In songs...

I wake up, it’s a bad dream,
No one on my side,
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
to be fighting,
guess I’m not the fighting kind.
Wouldn’t mind it
if you were by my side
But you’re long gone,
yeah you’re long gone now.

It’s Your world, isn’t it. It’s Your freedom, Your fight, Your thirst for Your life. What about My pain? "You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed," said Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's fox in the Little Prince. You ran thousands of miles away from responsibility, you ran toward your freedom. I only wish my heart, too, could be free again. I wish it could be untamed.

I need a place
That’s hidden in the deep,
Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep.
The modern world is broken.
I need a place
Where I can make my bed,
A lover’s lap where I can lay my head,
Cos’ now the room is spinning,
The day’s beginning.

I don’t want to live, I don’t want to wake up into this new day. I don’t want to die either, I just want to slowly cease to exist, fade away like your feeling to me, turn into a fox and run. I think you might respect me more as a fox. I won’t have to worry about money as a fox, because that’s what I worry about, right? I probably won’t feel love, because that’s what I’m pushing away, right? In a simple world of foxes I won’t feel lonely any more. I will feel at ease, because I’m sure foxes are so much more human than many-many humans in this world.

I hope you fly free, if that’s what your freedom is all about. I hope you win your other battles, those you actually believe are worth fighting.

Why do I have to fly
over every town up and down the line?
I'll die in the clouds above
and you that I defend, I do not love.

This meal I can’t share

My face seeks the shelter in my palms,
A weak protection from the storm of uncertainty.
Run away from me!
Stop following me into the darkness,
We are not too far yet for you to be saved.

…Excuse me miss,
What would you like today?

Can I think for a moment?
Why the choices again?
Can I please… No, wait…
I just changed my mind.
Could I first have my confidence back
Followed up by some trust on the side
Could I have some hope for a drink
For desert give me back my beliefs
in me,
in people,
in something higher.

Can I have no ice in my drink?
Why? Can your heart get any colder?

Forgive me.
You chose the worst possible time
To enter my life.
You are pure as tears I shed… just months ago.
I don’t think I am…

Love is what you are all about.
As of today, I don’t believe in love.

Forgive me.
Maybe one day my heart will thaw.
I think one day I will allow it to feel again.
I know one day I’ll be able to look up
And find my reflection in someone’s eyes.
If you are still hanging there,
Maybe they’ll be yours.
That being said… you are free to go,
Escape from me
For I am too dangerous
As of right now.

You are kind, simple and true,
I cannot let you near this poison.

No, you can’t,
This chair is taken
By my thoughts,
This meal I can’t share
Please allow me to have it alone.

Almost there

I didn’t dream about you last night. I haven’t been thinking about you during daytime for a while now, but I was afraid that I wasn’t really getting rid of those thoughts and only suppressing them. I’d fight so hard and you would defeat me again and again by showing up in my dreams.

Well, I had a good nine-hour sleep last night (I barely ever make it over 5 so this was really good), and guess what… You weren’t there!

Is it really time to say good-bye? I still get flashbacks every once in a while but they are minor and they make me angry rather than sad.

I guess I am in a blame setting stage right now. I read it in “Loveshock” by Dr. Stephen Gullo, the tiny book that does miracles when your heart is broken. It might be the reason I am moving past all of this so quickly, it’s much easier to do when you understand all the little emotions you are going through. I found myself leaving that state of constant sadness, distancing myself from everything that happened and critically evaluating things. How foolish could I be? Of course I deserve better!

A recipe to unbreak your heart

Ok, you have to try this if your heart was broken. Travel somewhere. Visit a friend who has been inviting you forever or a sibling whom you saw a year ago or so behind your job-school-whatever else too busy life. I know, we all are busy, but there are weekends, right? No, no trip is too short, my last one was Friday through Sunday and trust me, it works like magic.

Plan a trip a month or so in advance and take that month to get over yourself and cry all you need, but as the trip nears, look forward to it. Set your mind into an adventure mode, plan, pack, make yourself look pretty, it all helps so much!

I got this idea from a movie. Ok, I quote a lot, but I guess that's what you do being a journalist. Sometimes the quotes you see or hear are so relevant to your current state of mind that you can't resist the urge to jot them down. They make you feel warm inside, telling you, “Chin up! You are not the only one going through this!” They are better yet if they offer a solution to a problem, a practical step that actually works.

“I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.” – Iris (Kate Winslet) in The Holiday movie

I set my mind to good weather, adventure and meeting people who'd make me feel worthwhile. I decided to take the load off my heart and stay cheerful throughout the trip to make sure the people I meet also feel worthwhile around me.

The new place breathes new life into you, it gives you new energy, it makes you feel whole again. It gives you new ideas, something to look forward to. To my surprise, my grief did not come back home with me. I felt as if I came back from a two-week vacation — not a weekend at all — refreshed, strong, eager to experience more of that new independence. A week later, I still feel that. I don’t want to go back to crying. Why would I?

There is a whole world out there ready to embrace you, as soon as you are ready. Pack your bags and leave!

I hope this helps someone else as it helped me. And I hope no one stays heartbroken for a long time, it’s such a dark place to be. Get out of there, and even if you don't travel, do something for a change or treat yourself to something nice, you know you deserve it.

Moving on

I started packing today. I will be moving soon, you know. I am not moving to something I wish or want or something waiting for me in another city. I hate leaving the town I am so used to, the town with all the familiar places and people I care for. But I am willing to start anew in order to become me again. I am moving away from here, to my independence, to the future without you.

I know that I have to, I know that if I stay you will keep pulling me into your world with these invisible chains of yours, and unwillingly, you will keep hurting me.

I was trying to cling to our friendship, thinking that the wounds would heal eventually and I could slowly move on. But I cried for an hour in the shower today and once I got out I realized that I can't go on like this. It dawned on me that those aren't my problems I am crying about, it’s you being around and trying to help me out.

I have to learn to deal with this angry world on my own, you know. I can't stay here much longer because every time I see you or hear you my heart starts bleeding again. My strength leaves me and I surrender to the swirl of emotions I'm unable to control. I become something I hate to be, I become weak, I weep uncontrollably and I don’t want to be like this.

This is my good bye to you, my love. I realized today that if I don't set myself free, nobody else will. I hope by the time we see each other again, my heart will heal completely and I will be able to be a good friend to you, the kind you've been to me… after you dared to break my heart.

Finding comfort in writing

My life took several unexpected turns recently and I really felt like writing. Yet every time I sat down in front of my laptop, the screen disappeared behind my tears and the immense pain I felt didn't seem to be willing to leave me in the form of words.

It has been a month now although it seems to have happened in a course of just one night, a single nightmare that sent me rolling down the slope of emotions. I haven't been able to stop yet, unable to control my fears, my pain… my life.

You showed up at my door one night to break my heart. In those several words I heard you breaking everything good that we had, crushing our past and our future, pouring a bucket of icy water into the fire of those six short passionate months together that seemed like eternity. That fire was us, and we burned out too quickly.

You came back next day yet I couldn't forgive you. You lost your feelings somewhere along the way and there was no sense to try to mend a tie that was now so weak. I put my ruthless mask on and pushed you away. We both knew it was the right thing to do, and we both still know it.

I didn't realize letting you go from my heart wouldn't be as easy as closing the door behind you. I was strong the first several days because I was mad at you, and determined to stay strong. But days later, my world started falling apart. I tried replacing you with work, taking on more than I could ever handle, with books that I couldn't concentrate on behind the thoughts of you, with friends in whose circle I would end up drunk, getting back home in tears. I watched movies without paying attention to the plot, I listened to the news on the radio and all I could think about was that I wouldn't be able to discuss them with you. Our engaging conversations seem to be the thing that I miss the most, and I'm sure we'll still have those as friends. But then, why does it hurt so bad?

I am trying to let go of my pain today, releasing it through the tips of my fingers, watching it roll gently on the screen, trying to leave it there. I am hoping that the ability to write again is a sign that my heart is starting to recover. Maybe just a little, one step at a time, I will let my demons go.

Rainy

One thousand falls,

One thousand rains,

You touched my eyes,

Rushed through my veins,

Then left me standing on the slopes,

Touching the leaves,

Counting the drops,

Cold rains and dreams,

And muddled streams,

No sign of hopes.