once again, jesus came.  

he did everything when i could do nothing.

he set me free

and this freedom,

it tastes so good.

she loved quickly
slipping into it like her favorite pair of pajamas
and he's the night
crisp and cool and right.
when the moon rose
with its shining silver light,
she realized for the first time
she loved him.
not just for who he was
and the way his heart changed hers,
but for every shortcoming
every tattered flaw and heavy load,
she loved him.
she wanted him.
and even though they weren't together
she knew that loving him wouldn't end
that every day when she woke
his name would be resting on her lips
and her love would only increase
day by day
until they were together again.

I envy not in any moods
         The captive void of noble rage,
         The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:

I envy not the beast that takes
         His license in the field of time,
         Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,
         The heart that never plighted troth
         But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
         I feel it, when I sorrow most;
         'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

it's 2 AM.  you're sitting on the floor of your kitchen wearing the last shirt that still carries his smell.  there's an empty ben and jerry's next to you, mascara smudged down your face and stained in your finger's prints.  

     anything, i'd do anything for this pain to simply subside.  i just want
            this pain to go away.  please.

when we have this pain laid heavily our hands, especially when it's all that's left of our relationship, we say we want it to dissipate, but i don't think we do.  i think we're lying to ourselves.  if we really wanted the pain to go away, we'd erase his voicemail, throw out the tshirt, delete all the text messages, hide the journal punctuated with his name.  we'd avoid every sappy love song and every break up song.  his name would fade a little with every action, every step in the direction away from the failure of that relationship.  

but this isn't what we do.

we sit in his tshirt.  we say his name over and over again between midnight sobs.  we reread and reread and reread every last text.  we listen to the voicemail with shaking hands and a shattering heart.  we listen to the songs we sang in the car with him.  

saying these things hurt doesn't even begin to explain it.  

it's like your heart is on steroids and you can feel it pumping 24/7,
like your whole body is pumping with the loss of him.  
it's like someone put magic contacts in your eyes, and you see his face, his smile, his essence everywhere, reminding you of all you lost.
imagine pouring lead into your veins; it's that kind of weight.
it's like someone took a highlighter to your life and is illuminating for you in the brightest yellow all the times he would have been there, as if you didn't already know.

if you've ever seen an apple dipped in liquid nitrogen and thrown on the ground, shattering into a trillion pieces, that is a very good visual for how this feels.

i think we hold onto pain so tightly because it validates our relationship, friendship, experience, or whatever it was that has caused it.  everything in you hurts because it happened; it wasn't in our heads or our fantasy or our dream.

it was real.

but it's over now.  the good memories, the good days, the good hugs, the good smiles, are fading more and more with every breath.  our pain is all we have.  we aren't over that relationship yet; we don't want to, we can't say goodbye to that person or the end to the story.  

we try to battle the inevitable fade.  we grasp tightly onto the pain.  we aren't going to feel loved or made special or pursued by that person anymore, all that's left is pain.  all we have left of him is pain.  so we take what we can get - or rather - what we've been given.

"all that i know is

i don't know how to be something you miss."*

taylor swift / last kiss

it's so strange how different my life was a week ago.  talking to you was regular.  expected.  normal.  routine.  

but now there's nothing.  

reverberating silence is my constant companion, making the moments you used to fill seem like much deeper chasms than they were before our paths crossed.

the thing is,



i'm addicted to him, despite all the pain that comes along.