Nah, I Better Get Going

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Every time he leaves it hurts just a little bit more. I guess I do it because I’m just hanging on to the last little tiny piece of what once was. Ugh its not fair at all that I become so wracked with the feeling of loss and deathly sadness every single time this happens, am I really so delusional to think that it just might bring him back? I want to believe it will but I know that it wont. Then again who listens to their conscience? Sure you know when its done its done but does any one ever have the strength to believe it? The constant tugging in my chest is unbearable, “thank you, that…that’s was great, I really had fun tonight, and thanks again for staying up and talking with me last night, I really appreciated it.” “ its cool I didn’t mind, I’m glad it helped..” a total lie, I am not one bit glad it helped. “and thanks for the advice, telling her how I feel will probably turn out to be a good thing in the end.” Those words cut through me like a hot knife into butter. I just don’t understand how he and I can be so close and connected in every way and still he doesn’t see the pain and hope that radiates of my being every time he says “hey how bout we go for coffee this week then?” I can see the look of pity and remorse on his face as I sit on the last few steps at the front door watching him ready himself to take off once again, just as satisfied as before. The second I hear his car rev up and pull away I can feel the hellish burning of the tears in my eyes, the way they sear my scalding cheeks as they make their way down my face. And all I can do is sit there and wallow in the wishful ache that next time, just maybe, he’ll love me back.





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