The constant battle with her desertion has lead to my emotional distress, which can be only described as traumatically crippling. Her absence in my life fueled my hatred of humanity, the unjust nature of our circumstances superseding beyond the passionate love we had. A love of unbearable heat, a love that transcended the space between two people, had now become cooled into a bitter platonic desire to remain by her side.
I cannot help but feel that for her, our past is gone, forgotten, discarded like the skin of a snake. Her hands caressing another I observed from across the room, I was left forlorn, fighting for control and alleviated anguish.
The trivial novelty gifts I carried away from her house were now dumped with the kitchen rubbish. The gifts I was able to toss away with but minimal effort, but I was burdened by something less tangible; the feelings, the memories. I felt a deep and powerful longing to casually flick them aside, their worth to me forgotten, insignificant like a mere speck on the vast plains of life. I endeavor a journey of suppression and containment, but the reminiscent thoughts invade my mind, as an army of ants invade a beautiful Saturday picnic, uninvited and destroying.
As I tell my story, the pain is overwhelming. It fills my entire being, and shadows my every action. But I want it to be known, I tell this story without a trace bitterness, and I intend no recrimination by it. It is just a story of a lost soul trying to find solace against the harsh and cruel winds…
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment