I can't eat.
I can't sleep.
I throw up.
I can't listen to my music, because almost every song reminds me of you.
You sicken me.
I should have seen this coming, because love is blind, and I didn't want to believe my first love could ever hurt me.
No more "babykinz", no more watching movies together, no more joking around, no more cuddling and wresting, no more taking me to shows, no more sweet surprises. You didn't do any of those things for a long time.
All you did was use me, and lie to me.
I should have seen the signs.
I have never been in so much pain in my life.
The aching I felt and still feel is unbearable. If there was a gun next to me, I would have used it.
Dragging my nails across my chest and torso, begging for it to stop, for you to change your mind, for this to not be happening.
Letting out a cry like a wounded animal, full of so much pain.
It surprises me that the heart isn't physical-I know it is, like for pumping blood- but I mean an actual thing that can be physically hurt.
The next day, after it happened, I went to church. I took communion. I pushed that dry piece of bread in my mouth around with a dry tongue. I contemplated my life. I also was on the verge of up-chucking that grape juice and dry-heaving, because God knows that wouldn't be the first time I threw up that day.
I held back vomit, I held back tears.
What is worse: living because there is a God, and it has been pre-planned that you experience such extreme pain, or living an existence in chaos where anything is possible?
I felt like a liar sitting in the church pews, lying to everyone around me. At that moment I didn't believe God exists, because I don't understand how God can watch as one of his children begs for life to end.
Food tastes like a repulsive molasses that my throat closes up upon when I try to swallow. But usually my throat wouldn't obey my commands, so for now I've stopped trying. No matter how much water I drink, my mouth is always dry.
With my stomach in a knot, its almost unbearable to even brush my teeth in case I hit that dangly thing and there goes my breakfast. So I've stopped trying.
That strawberry was sour. That milk felt like bird poop. That yogurt tasted like the green gunk you get in your throat when you have a cold.
And then I think of you and here, and there goes my food again when I drop everything and run to the toilet and there it flies out of my mouth, dramatically fleeing my silent nightmare and into the sewer system.
You are a coward, for not doing it face to face. I would rather cry in front of you and let you hear the pain on my voice, and see my body convulse as I threw up.
You are a liar. You used me for so long. After all we've been through, you still don't love me enough to not hurt me again. But you did, and you have no regrets, even if for my sake you wouldn't do it if you could go back in time to stop yourself from doing that thing that hurt me more than breaking up.
I finally saw your disgusting figure at school. I can't believe I had asked for a hug over the phone with you the night before.
I knew you had changed in a year, but not that much. I realized I wanted a hug from the old you, who would have never hurt me that bad. I saw your hands, your face, chest, and mouth.
When I looked at you, I didn't just see you, I saw you with another girl on your lap. Rubbing your cock with her hand, and you hard as hell and loving every minute of it. Making out with her.
I hate what you did.
We could have been friends after,
But that's not what you wanted, or you never would have gone with her.
We still could have been friends even after that,
But you clearly expressed how you felt to me:
- no regrets
- i want to make out with other girls
- it felt right
- when we do it i think of other girls
- your ugly and let yourself go
- your a prune and boring
