Reflection.

i laid on the couch crying, thinking, hurting... taking medicine to numb the pain, to make me sleep... i slept all day, and if i woke up, i took more medicine so i could slip right back into a heavy slumber. being awake meant crying and dealing with the pain... so, like a coward, i hid from it. I slept. for one month, i cried and slept. i didn't eat. eating meant following a daily routine... daily routines felt like moving on. i didn't want to move forward. all i wanted to do was go back in time. and, since i couldn't, all i did was sleep. my weight started dropping in just a matter of days.. and after the first few pounds, the rest followed too quickly. sickly enough, i didn't care. i saw my body, my health and my strength deteriorate right before my own eyes, but was powerless to stop it. i didn't know how to.. nor did i care to. i was content to slip away. life didn't matter anymore. everything was a blur... a constant reminder that things would never be the same. each day blended into the next, until this became a constant routine; a whirlwind. one month slipped away before i knew it; i had no concept of time. i lost track of myself... and i didn't care. i understood then what escaping meant. what WANTING to die felt like. it didn't scare me. many times i went to sleep praying that i wouldn't wake up. taking a higher dosage with hopes that it would send me overboard, only to wake up with pains in my stomach the next day.


It's been just over 11 months since that nightmare began. Since I lost myself... I've come a very long way the past few months. Ever since I've had to make it on my own, I've learned so much about who I really am, and how to make it. I've learned that I'm much stronger than I was before... That I didn't and don't EVER deserve to go through such misery, and such pain. Yet here I am, nearly one year later... I'm laying on the couch, listening to the same songs that brought me to tears before... It's 2:37 in the morning, and I can't sleep. For nights, all I've done is think about him. About the way things used to be. I'm torturing myself and I can't stop it. I don't miss him.. He doesn't deserve that. I just can't grasp what happened. I still don't understand any of it. I don't understand why he moved on so fast... How he replaced me like it was nothing. * months have passed since he left my life... * months that he's spent with that girl. * months was the length of our relationship. and now, a time-frame equal to that has elapsed and he's still with the girl he left me for. He doesn't talk to me. He doesnt respond to me. I was better than any of those girls... I don't understand how he could just forget that I existed. It's killing me... And it shouldn't be. He's absolute scum. He's trash. He isn't worth my tears or my time. But he was the guy whom I loved more than anything. Hell, I don't even know if he loved me back for real. I won't ever know for real. I don't think he did. I'll never have closure. I'm broken... I'm fucked up inside. I don't know what to do with myself.. I'm scared to feel things for people. I'm terrified. So here I am, laying on my couch, listening to the songs that make me think about him, and I'm crying. I don't stop... It just keeps coming. Tears keep falling. Tears that should have dried up a very long time ago.