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Knave of bards May 2020
You know the Five Stages Of Grief?

It's like that.

Stage one, Bargaining.
I told him I'd do anything, absolutely anything to keep him in my life.
I pleaded, I begged. I was ready to drop anything and everything for him.
Just for him.
All for him.

Always.

for.

him.

He was worth my entire life.
At the drop of a hat.

Or a noose.

Then came the Grief. I was... Incomparably sad.
My life fell apart, I felt nothing but pain.
Felt like my guts were being torn out, and spilled at his feet.

Choking on tar

my mind was never quiet.
It was all my fault, If I'd been better I'd still be his.
It hurt.
So much.
  So
       So
            Much.

Then Anger.
It was his loss, I was SICK AND ******* TIRED OF BEING ******* OVER BY HIM! I deserved BETTER than that ******* and whatever PITIFUL MEANINGLESS FLING our two years HAD BEEN.
I'd burn every precious **** thing he'd given me.
He'd filled my life with bits of him... Art, poetry, clothes. Built me palaces of paragraphs.
I'd tear it all out of me as if it was a tumour.
A desise.
Discusted by the thought I'd ever affiliated myself with his filth.. Inch by toxic inch I'd tear him away. Dig in my nails and press hard Hard HARD with the point of my razor.

Then I crashed.
The fourth stage, Depression kicked in.

Nothing had meaning,

my anger had evaporated, without it I was the shell of the person I used to be.
Empty
Cold.
Dull.
His City lay,
all burned out,
no longer aflame,
my highway overpasses crumbling and scarred with decay.

My dark glassy eyes now dry, no more rain soaked asphalt.

No more laughter or dancing.

No more cheap laminate countertops.
and he was gone.

And he was gone.
And
     He
            Was      
                        G O N E.

Like watercolour dripping off a canvas.

Nothing i could do. I had no purpose anymore.
My life was cold and grey without him lighting it up, painting cave walls with his love.
My perfect, perfect boy.
He'd gone forever.
I slept and slept and slept. To try and stave off the emptiness. The hollowness he'd left inside of me.
To pass the seconds ticking by without him. It didn't hurt, I was just... in my heart there was emptiness. Grey and blank and hard as cold concrete. All the bright chalk mandalas washed away.
Now the last step.
Acceptance.
Acceptance.
Acceptance.
I'm working on it.
I can live without him. He's not my one and only perfect thing. I wasn't blinded by love. I was idealistic. Hopeful and nieve, praying and begging to anything that could mean hope, that he wouldn't leave.
Now I realise You are, Tom. Toby and and Emma are.
Pippa and Frankie and Willow and Jack and Chris.
Molly and Emily and... Me.

Every beautiful person in my life.

I know none of you would leave me.

Not like he did.

The song. Our song.


Honeybee

It feels like acceptance to me too.
I know it's dumb, it's just a song, but it came on shuffle last night and I think it triggered this.
I'm far from okay,
but I'm closer than I've been before. ****, I've got trust issues, I feel like I can't ever let anyone that close again.

I'm terrified of vulnerability.
But that's what you're here for.
You guys are gonna help me out the other side.



Thank you so much for that.



"Hello Goodbye, Twas nice to know you
How I find myself without you
That I'll never know
I let myself go
Hello Goodbye, I'm rather crazy
And I never thought I was crazy
But what do I know?
Now you have to go"

You set me free.










I
Forgive
You.


Even if you hate me.
Even if it should be the other way round, and you can't. Won't.
I loved us.
And I'm sorry.
🖤
I know.
I know Its gonna be hard.
But I refuse to hate him. Or myself for it. And god, I've never actually ever been able to be angry at him before. He ******* me over so many times. Probably without knowing he was breaking me. I refuse to be another of his broken toys. He broke up with me on a regular basis, and didn't even ask me if we wanted to get back together. We always just did. Because, I guess, he already knew my answer. It would always be an unquencing gratified 'yes'. An unspoken 'always'. Not this time. Not that he wants me back. But no hate. No regret. Not any more. He's cost me so many emotions. I'm not sparing him anymore. I just wish things were different. If he was more trusting we'd still be friends. Not necessarily lovers, but I will still miss the times when I could call him my best friend. But I guess it's his loss. And for the first time in pretty much forever... I'm okay with that.

— The End —