Broken Pieces

It took a long time to see the damage you did, to pull back the bandages and see the bloodied mess beneath. It took focus, and determination to see past the facade. To see past the lies I was feeding to myself. It took a stumbling walk, turned into a desperate crawl to inch my way away from you. It took a certain strength to put distance between us, and even more not to turn back toward you. As much a I knew distance was good, the desire to be close to you almost won yet again. You almost won again…almost.

There is a certain crazy that consumes us all. One that whispers logical nonsense in our ear and tells us that to be insane is very much okay. The insanity keeps the fire at a raging height, keeps the embers too hot to burn away, keeps the warmth of you still too close. The psychotic obsession of you keeps the horrid memories alive glossed over in a gossamer illusion of fantastic reality.

The chill at night kept my screams at bay. The silence of your absence and the ease of my still tender wounds kept my fingers from reaching for the phone. The drought was the hardest. The longing, the need, the want. And the distance makes it no easier, the time is no seal of finality.

There is nothing in my body that wants you ever again to be in the circumference of my life, but no matter the desert of our now severed connection my mind still lingers on the illusion. Eventually the rain of memories fade, and finally when I’ve fully drown, that’s when I will breathe once again.

You consumed me. You broke me. But I won’t let it define me.

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