“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope... I have loved none but you.” -- Jane Austen, Persuasion
Never accuse someone of being delusional before a little retrospect.
I should have learned that lesson sooner.
Last night was the worst night I've had... up to date.
I have never been so... obliterated.
I woke up with both eyes swollen shut, which is typical, but this time I also woke up with the back of my head completely drenched from all the tears I had shed.
I couldn't even enjoy the fact that my car finally came in.
I had to go to the dealership to return all the sets of Bambi's keys, as well as get my new car's shit set up. As much as I begged not to go, I was forced to walk out in public with my right eye still COMPLETELY swollen shut, and my voice shaky at best.
My soul has been broken in so many different ways... and this time was no exception... it was a NEW type of hurt. A new type of disillusionment. A new part of my being that was massacred.
I can somewhat equate it to watching someone standing under a spotlight... then the light suddenly going out. There's that initial shock... that startled reaction... and then it's gone. As if nothing existed. You're left in silent, total darkness.
Tears have been pouring out of my eyes uncontrollably at random times of the day. Heavy, incredibly warm tears... just pound the surface they land on... I often hear them.
A very vital part of my soul died. The dreaming part. The hopeful part. The... important part.
And again I'm left wondering: What did I... why did I deserve this?
I'm just sitting here... almost in a yoga's Child's Pose... often times my face to the floor... crying and screaming into the carpet. And when I finally get tired... I lay completely motionless on the floor, flat on my stomach, hands over my head, tears dripping off the bridge of my nose.
There's a brand new, fully-loaded $61,000 car sitting in my garage... but it doesn't mean shit. It doesn't fix shit. It isn't worth shit.
It doesn't make me get off the floor. It doesn't make my body stop shaking. It can't even make these stupid hot tears stop flowing... shit, it can't even make the tears go down in temperature.
It doesn't make my breathing any easier. It doesn't make my dreams... resuscitate.
It doesn't erase the words. It doesn't erase the actions.
I. Am. Nothing.
Never accuse someone of being delusional before a little retrospect.
I should have learned that lesson sooner.
Last night was the worst night I've had... up to date.
I have never been so... obliterated.
I woke up with both eyes swollen shut, which is typical, but this time I also woke up with the back of my head completely drenched from all the tears I had shed.
I couldn't even enjoy the fact that my car finally came in.
I had to go to the dealership to return all the sets of Bambi's keys, as well as get my new car's shit set up. As much as I begged not to go, I was forced to walk out in public with my right eye still COMPLETELY swollen shut, and my voice shaky at best.
My soul has been broken in so many different ways... and this time was no exception... it was a NEW type of hurt. A new type of disillusionment. A new part of my being that was massacred.
I can somewhat equate it to watching someone standing under a spotlight... then the light suddenly going out. There's that initial shock... that startled reaction... and then it's gone. As if nothing existed. You're left in silent, total darkness.
Tears have been pouring out of my eyes uncontrollably at random times of the day. Heavy, incredibly warm tears... just pound the surface they land on... I often hear them.
A very vital part of my soul died. The dreaming part. The hopeful part. The... important part.
And again I'm left wondering: What did I... why did I deserve this?
I'm just sitting here... almost in a yoga's Child's Pose... often times my face to the floor... crying and screaming into the carpet. And when I finally get tired... I lay completely motionless on the floor, flat on my stomach, hands over my head, tears dripping off the bridge of my nose.
There's a brand new, fully-loaded $61,000 car sitting in my garage... but it doesn't mean shit. It doesn't fix shit. It isn't worth shit.
It doesn't make me get off the floor. It doesn't make my body stop shaking. It can't even make these stupid hot tears stop flowing... shit, it can't even make the tears go down in temperature.
It doesn't make my breathing any easier. It doesn't make my dreams... resuscitate.
It doesn't erase the words. It doesn't erase the actions.
I. Am. Nothing.
1 comment:
I knew you'd catch that quote. My heart breaks reading this and I wish I could take away your pain. :( Te quiero mucho, prima!!!!!
Post a Comment