And if memory serves me well, I remember my life coming to a screaming halt. I remember feeling pain in every inch of my body; my lungs, begging for air, and the grim knowledge that no matter how much I gasped for it, it was never going to fill that emptiness growing inside of me. I’ve never felt so real in my entire life while everything around me just melted away. This wasn’t about the cars driving by outside, the simmering summer sun peaking in the window, nor was it about yesterday, or last week, or the people we knew, places we’d been. This was about the next seconds of my life. The minutes that the seconds effortlessly turned into and the hours that snuck up on the minutes, and the days that crept behind the hours. This was about going on when my sky was falling from above. The fact I had to look forward to spending my time with a cloud over my head, a starless sky.
It wasn’t a ‘See you later, love,’ or a ‘Call you in the morning, babe.’ It was a stake through the heart. And if the numbness hadn’t set in to protect me, I’d have died right there. Right in that instant. Every moment up until then, slipped away. Like they had never even occurred. Every stitch of my heart, unraveled. Almost as if erasing every bruise from you. And when the thought of you appeared, and it did often, not one bad memory came to mind. And I was ill with your illusions.
And it is now time to pick the pieces up and carefully glue them back into place. If only each piece wasn’t heavier than the last.
I’ll strip myself of your memory. Carefully place you in a shoe box and bid you goodbye. And there you will stay, a shoe box full of past, pain, and question, while my glue dries. And I’ll stop fighting the fact that you’re gone. Gone for good and live my life again.