“Have you ever tried sleeping with a broken heart. You should try sleeping in my bed”
I’m not okay and haven’t been in a very long time. I have been faking it hoping to make it.
My friends think I shouldn’t be grieving and that it’s old news that a boy broke my heart. That he ain’t worth my tears. They don’t understand he is worth my everything. He was worth my life. I tell them he could have slit my throat and I would have used my last breath to apologize for ruining his shirt. They think I’m crazy, maybe.
I have been labeled desperate. They are Right, I’m desperate.I’m desperate for him. He kept me sane, he kept me safe. They don’t understand. Everyone is so obsessed with where I left my pride and who. They don’t understand that those things don’t matter when the heart is involved. The heart want what it wants,so does my soul.
I have been called foolish more times this past few months than my entire life. Yes baby, I’m a fool for you. I have been chasing you for months now, yes I’m a fool and desperate for you. You don’t pick my calls anymore and it’s like you forgot how to read and write because baby you ain’t responding to my messages. I passed by your place, more than once, you are never home.
They tell me I need to have pride. They tell me I need to stop chasing after that boy. They tell me to get my shit together and stop being so desperate. They tell me to leave alcohol alone for a while. They are talking too much. They don’t understand, you are all that I need. Too much noise and I just want to be Left alone.
I have gained weight, I know this because I stepped on the scale the other day and I was shocked. People say I look Like shit. I don’t care. I have never been able to fully commit to a reality without you on it. I don’t care how I look anymore, the last time I saw my salonist was many moons ago. She even called the other day, apparently she cares about my hair.
I get through the day like a zombie. I long to be home( that doesn’t feel so homey without you) just another plain room with nothing on it but a basic bed and a study table. I long to be home so I can finally get to be alone with my new found solace (wine). I drink my soul to sleep.
It doesn’t hurt when I’m passed out drunk. In my sleep I dream, in my dreams he is mine. In my dreams we are together. In my dreams he never walked away in a cold windy night and left the front door open. He didn’t pack his bags and left me lying on the floor begging him not leave me. In that world he is my king and I’m his Queen. In my dreams, it’s okay. In my dreams we are okay. In my dreams, it’s his arms that lull me to sleep.
Just another rumble.