They say that matter cannot be created nor destroyed but rather transformed and I cannot help myself but notice how similarly pain acts. I woke up this morning and I swear I could smell the pain on my skin. I couldn't shower or bathe myself fast enough and no matter how hard I scrubbed a thin film of pain remained. I wondered to myself where all of this emotion and pain had come from and I came to the conclusion that pain and suffering lives in all of us. Just like matter, it is never created but rather awakened from a deep restorative sleep. It hibernates inside each of us until finally it comes oozing out of our flesh and up and out of our mouths until finally it is awake. Pain cannot be conquered because it cannot die. It only sleeps.

I can’t stop crying this morning. You tell me you miss me but you change the subject too soon. I want you to force me to tell you how I feel about all of this and to linger on it until I’m purged of all this confusion. I want to lay down with you on this rainy morning and fall asleep next to you. I want you. Here. Right now. Because I know time can heal but I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want you to just remember me when our song plays or you see a picture of me. I want to be fossilized in your memory like the ceiling you wake up to every morning and fall asleep to every night. I want to be permanent.