the end

I feel it happening, the last stage.

Everything hurts. It is too too much and nothing makes it better. No one and no activity. No mindset. No logic.

The numbness is enticing, and calls to me. I could stop caring about you. I could stop loving you. I could stop everything. However, there is no returning afterwards.

I am broken and still. I am a deer who has heard a twig break: unmoving and terrified. Waiting. Not bolting or calming, simply frozen in the now silence, waiting for another sound, another sign that what she heard was real. Or was it imagined? Was your love imagined? I think not. It feels like it now. I am a burden now.

It is better if I pull away. If I completely remove myself from the situation. Leave you alone to be with her. You deserve happiness and love and I am far too gone to give you any healthy semblance of these things. Plus, you didn’t ask. You don’t want me.

I cannot speak to you without saying “this is the most depressed I’ve been in my entire life. I am drowning in myself. Each day is harder than the last. I don’t know if I can go on. Please, please help me.” I have never been able to lie to you.

But when I speak to you, you are “busy but good”. You do not have time to respond to me anymore. I am not important enough for a response anymore. You do not check in anymore, how do I tell you that this is when I need you to? But I think you don’t want to. I think you know. Maybe this is my punishment for hurting you, I do deserve it.

So I will not speak. I will not exhaust you with my relentless desire to be gone from all of this. My love for you is not your burden. You are happy now.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s