I now know that the person who breaks up the relationship has it the worst. When there is no real cause, no true animosity or reason, except that you feel like you can't believe that you've gotten this far, but how can this keep going when you have no ******* idea who the two of you are? No one ever tells you that you are left with all of pieces of the broken relationship. That there is no ammunition to get over a person, except the self loathing you feel towards yourself. You spiral down from feeling like it was the right choice, to
wondering
                why
                      you
                          even
broke up with them in the first place. And the jealousy, oh god the jealousy, it spills into your blood stream every time you thirstily grab at a blush, no make that light green, or even deep red colored bottle- does it even matter- you've tasted it every. day. of. the. week.

These pieces, they are scattered in places and in forms you would never expect them to be. You reach and try to grasp at the grey hazy spiraling memories with your hands, but they are always ever
so slightly out of
reach.  

You look at the mirror, looking at an unrecognizable face, pity rotting upon it, dragging you down like a ship drowned by the relentless wrench of the sea. Can you even blame anyone but yourself? You don't deserve to heal.