You are still here.
A little bit of you is still here.
The irony of the matter is that you left long ago, but by leaving you have stayed. My world slipped through my fingers as easily as my tears did the day you left. The closing of the door was the closing of my world, the world in which we were the centre. Together.
In my new world there is still a little bit of you here. I stand behind you in a queue, you pass me in the street, you let me be served first at a bar, I wake up next to you…just a little bit of you; but you’re not there, you’re never there. I don’t know anything about you anymore but I never stop thinking of you. There is still a tiny corner of my heart that is reserved for you. It is tiny but it’s yours.
It doesn’t hurt anymore. Nothing could hurt like that moment did. The scene loops in my mind like a silent movie, only in slow motion, resembling a melodramatic installation in a modern art gallery…As you hurl your parting words in my direction, I catch the pain like a canon ball and bend clutching it, stumbling backwards, when I look up you have gone. I feel like the canon ball has gone right through me. I throw up. (Repeat x∞)
Following the desperation and the sickness was disbelief, grief and loneliness. Heartbreak is a heavy cross to bear; it dragged me down, stopped me seeing clearly and encouraged me to do stupid things. Ironically, loneliness forced me in to places and people’s company that I would never have contemplated if I had been in any acceptable state of mind. It made me feel invincible because anything other than that option was unthinkably depressing. Using these emotions as ammunition a journey began that took me places I thought I would never see. This journey changed me as I formed my new world.
And so you didn’t just turn the world I thought I lived in upside down, you blew it up. I began a process of rebuild and redevelopment in areas that may have been weak the first time around. But there is still a little bit of you here and the gaping hole that the cannon ball left has been filled with a calm fondness when I think of you.
You did your fair share of damage but in the wake of that I can thank you for what I learnt from you. After all, there is no love without sacrifice.
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Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 14th March 2007 |
This is great! You have taken a very tricky subject -- broken-hearted angst -- and made something fine out of it. This is understandably dramatic, but not in an obnoxious way. You even managed a good, satisfying ending.
I've been there and done that, etc., but I didn't cope with it as gracefully or artistically as you did, so you have my sincere admiration. |
Written by Lizzy (828 comments posted) 14th March 2007 |
| Well done. You've put into words emotions that are often very dificult to describe. I can feel the pain and am glad that you have come through a 'better' person. |
Written by Phil (6963 comments posted) 18th March 2007 |
Yep, good piece. All to easy to be mawkish, bitter, or over sentimental in something like this, but you avoided that well. Some lovely phrases.
Phil. |
Written by candyfluff85 (16 comments posted) 18th March 2007 |
| A piece that can be related to easily, really well written i feel, i enjoyed it. |
Written by Snodlander (507 comments posted) 18th March 2007 |
A piece that I think nearly everyone can relate to, even though mine was thirty-odd years ago.
On a pedantic note, I'd re-read this and trim it a little. e.g. 'The irony of the matter is that ' could be 'The irony is that'
' the world which we were the centre' should read ' the world in which we were the centre'
Nevertheless, a fine pice of introspection without being maudlin. |
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