The Sound of Heartache

Raw piece regarding my recent break-up

His promises and pretty words were wrapped with bows. With each lie and unspoken word, the wrapping decayed, the bow withered, and the box that I believed once housed his good intentions laid opened before me. Morbid curiosity hissed it’s temptation as I tip-toed toward that uncertainty and allowed myself to peek inside: empty. 

Was the box always empty? 

The floodgates opened within my mind as my thoughts drowned in questions. I began to question it all; his words, his actions, and worst of all…myself. 

My heart cries out for answers and closure I know I’ll never receive. My former comfort and peace I had within him has been stripped away, leaving me as hollow as the cardboard box of lies. Foolishly, I wish to see him once more as I gaze through a rose-tinted mirror and stare out at the beautiful mirage of memories that play on repeat. The only remaining piece of him I have left. 

Although in truth this severed bond was no surprise. For weeks I watched helplessly as he slipped away from me. Desperately I tried to hold onto something that was never mine. Ignorantly believing I could find a way to make him stay. 

With a clenched fist I shatter the mirror. The pieces float to the ground like a snow shower around me. The broken glass coats the floor, surrendering me trapped in this corner. The glimmering shards taunt me; whispering the truth I dare not speak. I fear that uttering them may solidify this nightmare into reality. Pressing my hands against my reddened ears, I try to protect myself from their snickering sneers. 

I cannot press my hands against my ears hard enough. I hear them calling me weak, and a slave to love. They mock me and remind me that it’s my fault, for I ignored all the blaring signs and brought this upon myself. They remind me that I would walk barefooted across this floor to find him if he wished, and for that very reason I disgust myself. They’re right. I would hurt myself if only to see him once more. I hate that I love such an unloving person. Even when I know that nothing could repair what has been done. The damage has long since set. 

But for some self-destructive reason, I painstakingly waited for his words to free me from this hell where his actions have put me. The silence became unbearable and in a fit of utter anguish, I slammed the door and set that bridge ablaze. The flames kept me warm on that night, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Soon the cold found me, and the sadness seeped back in. So, with shaking hands I cracked my window - allowing him an opening just in case he ever wishes to hear my words sing a beautiful lie one last time.