shock. denial.* it didn't feel real. somewhere in my head, you were still a very much real part of me and even though i knew we had "broken up", my heart did not know it, my body did not know it, my fingertips still searched for you just as much as my eyes did. i lived in a numbness, denying the permanence of the situation and even though i knew we weren't getting back together, i knew nothing at all. we had to end up together. we always ended up together. and there were days where i'd reject advances from other boys telling them i still had a boyfriend. there were days something great would happen and i would run to the phone to tell you. there were days my soul was crushed under the weight of the world and i would run to tell you. my phone lit up and i always saw your name despite the fact that you seized to call. every voice sounded like yours. every face mirrored yours. for weeks, i went through life believing nothing had changed; even though, objectively, nothing was the same.

pain. guilt. do you recognize the panic of waking up in the middle of the night with no air in your lungs and your body covered in beads of sweat? do you recognize the pain in your chest when you realize he isn't lying next to you and that you've made a big big mistake? you play back all the times it was your fault and somehow it seems like everytime was your fault and you're on your knees begging God please bring him back to me but it's too late? do you know what it's like to be willing to sell your mind body and soul just for one more night with him alone? you're considering a variety of drugs because this is too much and the pain in your head behind your eyes makes you feel like you'll die? your body is raw and your throat feels like someone has grated it? your limbs fall to their sides and there is nothing left besides pain. chaos. guilt. the deep guilt of never being enough, perhaps if i'd done this differently, perhaps if i'd done that differently, perhaps...

anger. bargaining. i hate him i hate him i hate him i hate everyone i hate myself i hate you and this and i just want to get out of here. i hate. i am so full of ******* hate i want to break...myself and others, there is this rage i cannot get out it still stuck in my body and i want to shout i am stuck in this hell and i'm falling can't you see? i'll rip him into pieces, how could he leave me? and God, God, how could you put me through this? no human can handle this alone but ****, it doesn't get more alone than this. wasn't i good enough? am i not good enough? was it my fault for never being enough or was it his for never wanting me enough? he never loved me enough. he's a monster. he's a narcissist. a womanizer. a cheater. a liar. a fraud. (i'd take back all those words if he just came back to me). (what can i do to make you come back to me?)

depression. reflection. loneliness. i can't get out of bed.
i know he's never coming back. i know we weren't meant to be. but i can't go on. i can't just...forget. i can't get out of bed.

reconstruction. working through. i'm waking up and cleaning my room. the world doesn't have the same kind of light and my eyes will never be as bright, but that's okay. i'm waking up and realizing that maybe the best part of me has been taken away, but there's always a new day and all i have to do is just...one step at a time. you know? one step at a time and sure, he'll never be mine but people come and people go and he has a part of me that he will never know, but i cannot hold on to hurt, i cannot hold on to pain and i would be in vain if i told myself that there was more to this, but maybe this is the end. my fingers will bleed from the journal entries. my tissue box is empty and wet. my friends have heard endlessly about what you mean(t) to me and sometimes, i still wish i was dead. but the sun still shines and i see that you are no longer mine. i love you, still, but one step at a time and perhaps one day, in the distant future, i will be fine.

acceptance. hope. he is gone. he is going to walk down the alter with someone else one day. he will hold her and kiss her and her children will have his name. he will carry her to bed and she will wake him up with breakfast in bed. he is hers. she is his. she will be his bride. his wife. his widow. i am his widow- of a relationship that barely lasted a few years- i am his widow, too. but just as new flowers grew in that patch of dirt so long ago, i will grow too. one day i will find someone who will hold my hand and take me to new lands and one day i will find happiness too. not today, not tomorrow, but one day. and being across the world from the one i once knew, i know someday, he'll stop thinking of me too.

*and in between there stages of grief will come those days when i can't leave my bed or talk or walk or move my little finger there will be days when i crawl into a hole and know that there is no getting out. there is always another day but sometimes it won't feel that way. emotional outbursts and pain feel like they're here to stay. but that's okay. one day, it won't feel that way. one day, it'll start to fade away and maybe the memory of him will always be at the tip of your tongue- but soon, you will learn, the world is full of new flavors for which one day, you will yearn.