Moving On

                                      

Your kisses told me we were coming to an end. I wish I could trip you and make you fall back in love with me. My smiles and laughter have turned into a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach something like the fear a kid feels after breaking their mom’s favorite knick knack.

I say to hell with love and to hell with the joy of making memories and the false promises of tomorrow.
Love with its temptress ways will squeeze your heart and crush you with all its sorrow.
I have no energy to do anything but stay in my bed curled up in a ball; it hurts and I can’t stop these fucking tears from falling. I say” this is stupid just get up and move on” but I just can’t seem to move past this love.

 God I wish this was all just a dream but it’s not. I drag myself across the floor to the bathroom a splash of water rests on my face and I drag a comb through my head.

 barely recognize the face looking back at me in the mirror; I swear this lack of sleep will kill me although I feel as if I’m already dead.
It’s foolish of me but I can’t help but wonder if you miss me at all.  I know better from the restraining order that it’s probably not a good idea for me to call.  A combination of 300 phone calls, text messages and emails professing my love has been reduced to being a crime.
I thought you were supposed to fight for love, to hold on and never let go.
It’s apropos for I am a prisoner of love.

 

The sad truth of the matter is- it feels like shit to feel unloved by someone who once loved you and no matter what anybody says nothing helps. You just say the hell with it and sink deeper and deeper into a hole of nothingness.

I lie in bed and I can feel your leg draped over mine. Every time I think about that I will never feel my arms around you or be inside you I get that sickening feeling again in the pit of my stomach and it reduces me to a ball of mush. I can’t move past this love.

Some may call it depression and some might call it pitiful and sad.
Whatever it is I’m living, I’m living proof that love can wreck you like a hurricane.
I’m punch drunk like a fighter who has had too many fights.
It’s cold and I’m tired I just want some decent sleep maybe then I could find my way out of this hell hole but for now I’ll just try to drink you away  with the hope that if I should wake up to see another day I would have forgotten your face.

To hell with this; no one deserves to feel this way!

Written By: Larry D. Miller

Larry D. Miller has over 20 yrs. in the field of crisis intervention as a call center Supervisor for a national crisis hotline. Larry has authored a book titled "How to cheat and not get busted" is currently available at: www.authorthouse.com and many online book retailers. Larry is a contributing writer for ms.Nix in the Mix http://msnixinthemix.com/