holding on.

23/4/05

I’m numb until the alcohol wears away. Then from the moment sunlight hits my eye the pain is like a head rush, and despair welcomes me once more in to its icy arms. I cannot fathom one conscious moment of peace, for there is no slowness about this agony – no subtly creeping up upon me – No, it’s fierce and sharp and ever-present and it makes me long for peace. I imagine that I’ll find it in death, but always I envision my pale, dead face and I know that my peace would shatter all others’. Still, I picture it daily. This morning was the same and tomorrow will be no different. I will do it all over again, I will drink away the pain tonight – no longer able to control myself. It’s a frightening thing, this knowledge. I cannot rest.

Such is heartache. A heart does not break - it burns and throbs and beats in and out of control. Every beat reminds me that I had no choice. I haven’t done this. I have left him, yes, but my heart was broken long before I did. For indifference is a far greater injury than hatred. To love, to hate, you must feel passion. But indifference – to be utterly ignored, unwanted, deceived, dismissed – is the deepest cut of all.

And I convince myself to let you go, I beg of myself to forget. And I know I’ll be ok when I can finally let go of something that was never there. You cannot lose something you never had, I tell myself. He was never really yours.

For tonight, I will have my comfort from a glass. And until morning breaks I will forget that I still love a heartless man.