grieving

they always say fight. fight for what you love. fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight. and that is all you have done. for countless hours, days, months. until your fingers have bled, until your knees have become numb, until you couldn’t see straight. but there is only so much fighting you can do until your body has given out and your self-worth has crumbled into dust; your ego has never mattered when it has come to love, come to him, but you seem so shockingly small now, don’t you?

the excuses you kept on reciting like a prayer, like a lifeline to hold onto are as useless as wishing that you could make him feel your love from 70 miles away. there is no anger, no confusion, just pain. endless, irreconcilable pain that feels like it is never going to leave. never going to end. the type of pain you can feel in your bones. and you realise all those times you cursed your own brain for overthinking were wasted because whilst putting words into someone else’s mouth is never right, it is shocking how it seems to have all come alight; the only time you have ever wished to be wrong, you turned out to be right. fate can really be cruel at times.

your heart and your mind aren’t in constant battle anymore, but what’s the cost? peace is nowhere in sight. your heart has a few more bruises than usual, your mind is a little heavier. and, although you would take him back in a single breath, and have imagined ways he will come back to you, he won't. he made his choice.

you can't keep on fighting when someone throws scraps to you like you're an animal begging at their owners feet. you can't. even though there were moments when it felt like the love was so strong, so deep, so magical, so unbreakable- it wasn't. even if it was, for a fleeting moment, it wasn't enough. even though he accepted all the love you gave him with open arms, accepted your body on a plate like it was food worth devouring, accepted it all with a smile and sweet talk, and he even made you feel divine, you cannot fight for him. but, you cannot curse him either because it was all your choice.

you cannot curse him for something you did because you gave him all your love with no complaints, no hesitation; even when there wasn't enough love for you to fix the cracks in your own spine from becoming so small for someone else. your love wasn't enough. it never is.

it is absurd, absurd that you've lost the only person you would have stayed alive for, but he doesn't know, he never knew. it's almost comical. you love him but the bitterness is haunting, how you are absolutely crushed, but he is perfectly fine. with his soul and heart and mind intact. but, how could he not? his soul was never in the mix, and neither was his heart, and neither was his mind. even with skin pressed together, lips pressed together, hands intertwined. you have to accept it, that whilst you dreamt of dancing in the kitchen at 4am together, praying that he would be yours day after day, after day, that he never even thought of you.

and if there is one thing you have learnt it is that someone's lust filled eyes and lust filled words and lust filled hands do not mean love. even if the sincerity behind them is enough to make you forget your own name. even if he says you were the only one made for him. it doesn't mean anything. not from him. not from anyone. so you are left to pick yourself up off the floor and grieve the loss of the love you could have had, the sleepy kisses, the birthdays, the anniversaries, the lazy smiles, the love that will go wasted in tears and screams and ache, because grieving the loss of someone who is alive is a pain that shatters your soul like an axe to wood.