Thursday, October 7, 2010

The ache

The intense never seems to go away. No matter where I am or what I'm follows me, haunts me. Anything beautiful, anything special, anything that has to do with Poppa- it just makes me wish I was sharing it with him, the one I loved. I despise this ache. It's not fair -it's torture. I shouldn't be the one who is tormented by this, it should be him. He was the one that left, the one that walked away and threw away what was a beautiful gift. I want to hate, but I can't. I want to be bitter, but I can't, because the memories that were sweet still linger. This sucks. Sometimes the pain is so bad, I really would rather just die than face it again and again. Nighttime is the worst. The tears come, the thoughts come...he's with her and not me. He should be laying next to me, not her.

God in heaven, when will this end? Erase the thoughts of what could have been from my mind. I can't eat, can't sleep, and he doesn't deserve any of my thoughts, hopes or prayers. I've never been one to wish anything on anyone, I'm not cruel like that. I always want the best for every human being, but I do wish this: this pain, this torture...I wish it upon him. I hope I haunt his dreams. I hope he smells my scent, feels my hair in his face, and that his hands feel empty because I'm not in his arms. I hope and pray that when he closes his eyes he can't stop seeing my face and my eyes -the eyes that once captivated him, the smile that melted him, my supposedly soft skin that drove him crazy and made him crave for more, and that no other song but my voice will be in his head. I was his Rachel that he searched for for 25 years. May he feel the regret of his sheer foolishness. He used to say that he thought of me every second. Time can be his pain now, just like mine. When every second is so painful, it's so hard to breathe. When the tears have been dark murky fountains in a sea of agony, the pain, the darkness that engulfs; when death just grips because what should have, could have, and would have been together still lingers, the memory of when dreams weren't nightmares, but glimpses of hope and the future looked bright. That bright sunny day that was supposed to be ours. She never will be what I was to him, and he will always be left wanting more.

No comments:

Post a Comment