Can Seem to Get Out

[Logo]

Entrenched in the grief he could no longer bear, he sought comfort in fantasies. He sought comfort in the fantasy that he could call her and they would have an affable conversation that could be a renewal of something he had been missing for a while.

 

Anxiety struck him like a lightning bolt when he realized that she could be distant during the conversation. It would be devastating. Though remote, since he knew her well, it was still a risk he wasn't sure he could take.

 

He had already come to terms with the reality that their relationship was over. He had come to accept it, months ago.

 

He was looking to the future, a bright one, as one bartender once said to him when he shared his feelings with that man; "the road ahead is brighter," said the bar man.

 

But in recent months, he has come to realize the alienation he felt with every rejection, with every failed attempt.

 

He missed her smile, the special way she caressed his chest as she rested her head on it when they lay in bed to sleep.

 

She had reached out to him, several times. Apart of him suspected, though wishfully, that it was her way of opening the door for reconciliation, but he'd been hurt before and he wasn't emotionally prepared to risk opening an old wound for a remote possibility such as it was.

 

But that has changed in recent days; he had been drowning, deeper and deeper to the point that any contact with her might give him the illusion that it would pull him up to the surface. Was it the water, or merely sorrow induced by shortness of breath?

 

He'd been entrenched in his sorrow, as he thought of the places they had planned to visit together, of a love cut short by a series of workable mistakes.

 

And from time to time, as he tries to climb from that deep trench, the earth beneath his feet crumbles and he loses his footing. Desperate, he lunges to grasp onto weeds and roots to pull himself up, but they are not strong enough. And so he falls back in, with a thud, onto the earth below, with nothing but a few blades of grass and dirt in his hand. The trench is dark and damp and runs like an ominous maze.

 

He sits down and wraps his arms around his legs, bringing his knees closer to his chest, resting his chin on his knees, preparing as usual to keep himself safe and warm for the cold dark night ahead.

 

His heart aches. A love lost.

Edited April 11, 2017 by Logo

[Spring23]

Entrenched in the grief he could no longer bear, he sought comfort in fantasies. He sought comfort in the fantasy that he could call her and they would have an affable conversation that could be a renewal of something he had been missing for a while.

 

Anxiety struck him like a lightning bolt when he realized that she could be distant during the conversation. It would be devastating. Though remote, since he knew her well, it was still a risk he wasn't sure he could take.

 

He had already come to terms with the reality that their relationship was over. He had come to accept it, months ago.

 

He was looking to the future, a bright one, as one bartender once said to him when he shared his feelings with that man; "the road ahead is brighter," said the bar man.

 

But in recent months, he has come to realize the alienation he felt with every rejection, with every failed attempt.

 

He missed her smile, the special way she caressed his chest as she rested her head on it when they lay in bed to sleep.

 

She had reached out to him, several times. Apart of him suspected, though wishfully, that it was her way of opening the door for reconciliation, but he'd been hurt before and he wasn't emotionally prepared to risk opening an old wound for a remote possibility such as it was.

 

But that has changed in recent days; he had been drowning, deeper and deeper to the point that any contact with her might give him the illusion that it would pull him up to the surface. Was it the water, or merely sorrow induced by shortness of breath?

 

He'd been entrenched in his sorrow, as he thought of the places they had planned to visit together, of a love cut short by a series of workable mistakes.

 

And from time to time, as he tries to climb from that deep trench, the earth beneath his feet crumbles and he loses his footing. Desperate, he lunges to grasp onto weeds and roots to pull himself up, but they are not strong enough. And so he falls back in, with a thud, onto the earth below, with nothing but a few blades of grass and dirt in his hand. The trench is dark and damp and runs like an ominous maze.

 

He sits down and wraps his arms around his legs, bringing his knees closer to his chest, resting his chin on his knees, preparing as usual to keep himself safe and warm for the cold dark night ahead.

 

His heart aches. A love lost.

 

Sorry about your loss. Did you want help?

[Logo]

I needed to get it out by writing it. I'll be ok. I'm going to be okay. It was just a moment of weakness.

 

The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day.