ruby

6.12.20

yes,
i am so hurt to the point that there are no stages to this kind of grief. it is the most vicious of cycles and i have to claw my way out of bed each morning. even laughing at it all seems too morbid.
but at least i picked how it happened.
i chose the conduit for the loss,
the loathing,
the regret.
it is a sealed vacuum
no one in,
no one out.
you take what you get
and run with it,
and try like hell not to hurt anyone else in the process because your good intentions are all you can feel you can cling to at this point.
there's not much else to hold onto.
your lifeline decided it would be too taxing on him to watch you fight,
nevermind join in with you.
so i enter my own ring,
again and again,
throwing punches for myself harder than anyone else ever has or i suspect ever will.
and yet, i have more in me than you ever did.
not surprising.
but,
i tell myself,
i know how to deal with an absence much more than a polluted presence.
after all, isn't that what being a kid was about?
i hate myself for how often i preach what feels like a lie.
but the secret?
it works,
it works just enough to keep me at bay,
to keep me from admitting i barely survived this week and i have to think about another's arms around me before something much more terrifying than you grabs a hold of me.
because what does that mean?
what would i possibly do if i acknowledged
the absence i promised myself i can handle and thrive in
has picked and plucked at my dopamine.
i am just a bundle of appendages connected to a pit.
but no,
the point is
(there is one)
it stings and bruises and aches and ravages
but your role in it can only go so far.
i control the pain for now.
i can't make it leave,
but i can sure as hell tell it where to stay.
and once (if) i heal,
there won't be much else to heal from because of you after that,
will there?

- i have become both the worst and the best at holding my own hand in the midst of this. this is my twisted way of saying i miss and need you more than my body needs its heart or lungs.