I can’t.
They never go away.
More than anything I wish that those words weren’t the reason that I’m so beautifully broken.
My heart bleeds with sorrow.
Weeps with remorse.
Hurts remains like a throbbing tumor.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose and face the window. I tilt my chin down as tears pool in the corners of my eyes. For God’s sake, what’s wrong with me? It feels like the last six months have been a tidal wave of emotion.
Raspy breaths.
Choking on sobs.
I’ve never been too much of a crier. Sure, every now and then I feel everyone needs a good, long one. Even me. And when I would cry, I would feel better. Like a weight had been lifted. It was a miraculous feeling. Everything in the world was bright and sunny again.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that internalizing all of that pent up emotion and frustration never helps. It balls up in the pit of your stomach like an infected wound, festering, pussing, branching out through your nervous system. It takes over your body slowly.
It suffocates you.
Hour by hour.
Day by day.
Then the moment comes where the floodgates open and you crack. I hate when I crack. It makes me vulnerable. Being vulnerable scares the living shit out of me. Because when I show that side of me, it means that I’m susceptible to being hurt. It means I’ll welcome pain into my home like a friendly neighbor and allow it to stay as long as it likes.
“Are you okay?”
Ray’s fingers skim my shoulder and I jump, surprised by the warm gesture. “I fine,” I mumble, blotting the remaining wetness from my eyes. I gulp down the rest of my hot chocolate.
“You don’t seem fine. Seems like he really did a number on you.”
“That he did,” I say.
What I don’t say…
What I can’t say…
Or won’t say…
Is how bad that number that he did was.
I clear my throat and wet my lips. “He’s not a bad guy. Things just fell apart, you know.” In the worst possible way they could. “Maybe it was supposed to happen that way. Everything happens for a reason.”
I’m a firm believer in that. People come in and out of your life and teach you things. Lessons, whether good or bad. The ones who are meant to stay, stay. The ones who were never supposed to be there in the first place don’t. I half smile, but it’s not firm. My lips quiver so I press them together.
“Sometimes things have to fall apart for things to fall back together,” he says smirking.
“Marilyn Monroe said that,” I add. Or something along those lines. Almost all of her quotes are epic. “I love her.”
To me, there’s always been something about the movie stars in that era that always made me love old movies. Even as a kid.
They were glamorous.
Timeless.