It seems so stupid, being back in this place. I thought I'd gotten over it, that I was better now. But the ache in my heart just seems to grow, silent for months and then, just as suddenly as I fell for him, the pain of losing him shoots through me again. As if reminding me that I can't be this happy, that I don't deserve to be happy. It's not fair, having to watch HIM so happy, just an arm's reach away from me. Inside though, I know the distance between us is hardly an arm's length. More like the space between the sun and Pluto. Me being Pluto of course: small, insignificant, forgotten. Him, the sun. Shining so brightly, completely unaware of his glow. I don't know why no one else sees it. He is glorious, he is brilliant, he is a bright star in this black hole of a world. How I wish I hadn't been so childish. I wish I knew that he would be the best thing that happened to me, and that his absence would be the worst. How many scenarios have I dreamed up? Daydreaming about my fairytale ending that undoubtedly does not exist, in this universe or any parallel universe. How many ways have I imagined him running back into my life with arms wide open? Forgotten what it feels like with his arms around me? Forgotten what his lips taste like? How many times have I wished that he loved me?
What if it never happens? What if I never get over him, never fall in love with someone else? Though I'd never admit it, my worst fear isn't dying alone. It's dying without the one I love loving me back. Dying with a broken heart. Because with a broken heart comes a broken soul. And how can I hope for anything after death if I have no soul? How can there be anything for the broken?
I can feel my heart beating. I can see the rise and fall of my chest. My body is working but something just doesn't feel right. My mind feels numb. My beating heart sounds tired. Is this a way to live? Is this how I must be for the rest of my life? Broken, beyond repair. Why do I feel so helpless?
There must be more for me out there. There must.