.x. In A Hail of Sparks

I struggle to comprehend the lack of you in my life.
Even now I want to crawl inside your brain and dismantle all the parts that pertain to me.
I want to pick apart the tissue, touch the residue and lick away the memory.
I battle with the insinuation that you chose her over me.
My ego beats at it’s self conscious cage.
Determined that I trump her in nearly all aspects.
I should not question the blindness of love. I was once held under it’s sway.
I wish you were the exception to the rule.
Instead you are one of the people.
The people that always leave.
I want to crawl inside your brain and pick apart the tissue.
And find the key that unlocks this preoccupation with you.
To separate my rational mind from my traitorous heart.
Free to fill this emptiness of me.
This empty, passionless part of me with anyone else.

I wrote this nearly two months ago. It’s just as strong today as it was the day I wrote it. Even stronger. I know I’ve been struggling with depression for a little while now. Sadness. Or a form of it. I’m folding in on myself. If I didn’t have to work I think you’d find that I wouldn’t bother with anyone. That I would have lost contact with everyone.

There’s no one left to hear it. They’re all tired of hearing it. Same old story. Courtney with her heart on her sleeve. Courtney who holds on too long. Courtney who stitches herself to the people who don’t want her. Silly Courtney. I’m a horrible person. I’m self centred and selfish. I don’t want you to be happy. I want to haunt this second chance you two have. And I want to ruin it. I’m vengeful and vindictive. Angry and empty.

Mostly I just want to be happy. But I can’t see it, touch it, feel it or sense it. So I’ll drown myself in fictional characters and music.