We were meant to be forever.
Thats what you'd always say,
And though I didn't believe you
I stayed with you anyway.

We were meant to be forever;
And my heart broke into two,
When your heart stopped beating
And our forever died with you.

Heartbreak
Is not an overreaction
Is not a figment of imagination
of the ones who feel too much

Heartbreak
Is not simply a word
for the ones who have loss.
Is not simple at all.

Heartbreak
Is ripping
Is the tearing
of one's heart into miniscule pieces.

Heartbreak
Is the breath
that both catches in your throat
and completely leaves your body.

Heartbreak
Is the physical reaction
in which your heart stops beating
and your lungs stop working.

Heartbreak
Is when your smile stops working
but you use it to cover up the tears anyway.
*Is when you picture your life without them in your day.

His "I love you" came swiftly.
Like the monsoon pouring down on a leaky roof
Those three words broke through my defences.
At first they were an ambrosia;
They sustained my life and our relationship.
At least for a short time.

Then "I love you" became an excuse;
For absences, and purpose-filled accidents.
And I ignored the warning signs, the flashing lights.
I pretended like "I love you" was enough...

...But it wasn't.
His "I love you"s were like band-aids on bullet wounds;
Like using play dough to fix cracks in concrete walls.
But I rationed our good memories,
I held on as tight as I could to our love
And watched as it slipped through my fingers.

His "I love you"s became poison,
That seeped deep into my bones,
And turned blue skies grey,
And turned light into darkness,
And slowly killed whatever semblance of love
I fooled myself into thinking we had left.

used to think I couldn't go a day
without your smile
without telling you things
and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so **** hard
but the next was harder.
I knew with a sinking feeling
it wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.

because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event.
It doesn't just happen once.
It happens over and over again.
I lose you  every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug:
whenever that one song plays on the radio,
or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you,
holding you, or wanting you.
I go to bed at night and lose you,
when I wish I could tell you  about my day.
And in the morning,
when I wake and reach  for the empty space across the sheets,
I begin to lose you all over again.