Resilient?
***** resilient.
I don’t feel resilient.
I feel alone, confused.
I feel pain.
I feel pain now as if I had never felt pain before.
I feel my lungs, aching to cease movement being the first thing I notice every morning.
I feel the way barbed wire tangles itself around my ribs and pulls in.
I feel the tears on my face when I wake up in the middle of the night, panting, as though I’ve just been submerged in a lake of ice.
I feel the memory of you.
I hear the memory of you.
You are in every call my phone receives, every text that comes in.
You are in every place I go.
Things you’ve said.
The way you laugh.
The way we were.
I remember the first time we told each other we loved each other.
And the hiding us from our families.
I remember the late nights and the ungodly early mornings.
I remember falling in love with you.
I remember all of the arguments, the eye rolls, the times apart.
I remember the way you made me feel like I didn’t want to want to die anymore.
The way you could make me smile with just a sigh.
The way you turn me into putty.
I remember being yours.
How territorial you get.
How you always listen.
I remember the plans we made.
The life we wanted.
I remember us.
The couple our friends were jealous of.
The fairy tale story we wanted to tell our grandchildren.
I remember who I was with you.
Who I wanted to be.
How you made me softer but somehow stronger.
How you taught me to love without being scared.
How I loved you and I wasn’t scared.
Because I had you. And it was us.
So no. I don’t feel resilient. I feel battered and broken. I feel tired.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 7:12 AM UTC
Resilient?
***** resilient.
I don’t feel resilient.
I feel alone, confused.
I feel pain.
I feel pain now as if I had never felt pain before.
I feel my lungs, aching to cease movement being the first thing I notice every morning.
I feel the way barbed wire tangles itself around my ribs and pulls in.
I feel the tears on my face when I wake up in the middle of the night, panting, as though I’ve just been submerged in a lake of ice.
I feel the memory of you.
I hear the memory of you.
You are in every call my phone receives, every text that comes in.
You are in every place I go.
Things you’ve said.
The way you laugh.
The way we were.
I remember the first time we told each other we loved each other.
And the hiding us from our families.
I remember the late nights and the ungodly early mornings.
I remember falling in love with you.
I remember all of the arguments, the eye rolls, the times apart.
I remember the way you made me feel like I didn’t want to want to die anymore.
The way you could make me smile with just a sigh.
The way you turn me into putty.
I remember being yours.
How territorial you get.
How you always listen.
I remember the plans we made.
The life we wanted.
I remember us.
The couple our friends were jealous of.
The fairy tale story we wanted to tell our grandchildren.
I remember who I was with you.
Who I wanted to be.
How you made me softer but somehow stronger.
How you taught me to love without being scared.
How I loved you and I wasn’t scared.
Because I had you. And it was us.
So no. I don’t feel resilient. I feel battered and broken. I feel tired.