Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Panic

My phone drops from my hands, all my body's strength ebbs away. 
I have to lie down so I don't fall down because my legs can't support my body weight.
And then I'm staring at the walls and of my furniture-filled bedroom and suddenly the panic sets in.
Everything is too tight, too close, too much.
I need to get out of here. 
I need to breathe 
But I can't because all I can think about

Is you. 
Your words.
Your life.
Your choices.
And as I lay there sweating cold bullets of fear, I wonder why I'm panicking.
It was just another text.
You didn't say a single word that helps me know that you understand how much pain I'm still in. 
And I guess that's why I'm struggling to breathe.
It's like I never existed to you. 
It's like you never cared about me. 
And suddenly the roller coaster of emotions is in full speed. 

The need to see you
To make you understand 
To talk to you
To hold you
To laugh, to cry, to just simply be with you overwhelms me. 
Not the you who wrote that text. 
Not the you who you think you are now.
No, I'm desperate to touch the you who I know is locked away in a part so deeply hidden in your soul that you've forgotten about him.
The you who still knows love.
I want to see the unclouded eyes.
Hear the care in his voice.
Touch the compassionate soul of the amazing man who made me believe in endless possibilities.
But I'm so afraid that you've finally done it.
That you've finally killed off the last vestiges of his soul with the darkness of your own insecurities. 

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