i know that you will never fully understand this, and i can't blame you, but he was my heart… so please forgive me in my desperate attempt to feel something again.
​
It is a feeling, an intimacy that goes beyond attraction, beyond sex. i feel lost in this world without you, and i find myself angry with you for not fighting harder to breath, for not fighting harder to stay with me - to save me.
You knew, but you didn't tell me. Those fleeting thoughts of you dying were more than just fleeting thoughts. i guess that i knew too. i pushed the truth down, but my spirit could feel yours stirring. i am abandoned. i was left here in this unforgiving world to fend for myself, and i am angry, lost, and saddened by this.
Tell me, how can one survive without one’s heart? Sitting here, counting down the hours, waiting for the day. There is always something missing, always that void, and there is not a single soul that can fill it. There is no comparison, and that is not fair to anyone.
They don't see me. i am invisible. i wear the mask, and go through the motions. i play a good wife, mother, and daughter, but they have no clue. This is not my life. My life is with you.

​I am exhausted. So tired of my life always returning to these feelings.
The feelings of complete and utter emptiness.
Crying, yearning for something, that familiar someone, that essence that I recognize.
That pit in the bottom of the stomach, that hopelessness, that feeling of helplessness.
Same spot, same demonic thoughts.
Distant memories that eventually fade.
Faded memories turned into false truths to shield the heart and cover the wounds.
Realizing that I have failed me and lost you.
Sadness deepens with every old thought. Driving the mind to sickness with "what if..." and "if only...".
Memories flood in of the times we fought.
​This is the unfiltered, uncut, honest truth.
​That happiness, that utopia, that euphoria that we sometimes sense in the night,
​That inner voice, that knowledge that to be dead is to be alive.
​Those who have heard this truth whispered, those who hear the mutters, and see the signs-
know that nothing is as it seems.
​We all seek the eternal buzz but have not yet figured out how to grasp it and hold on.​