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Never Again.

Too Many Times.

By Megan AlyssePublished about a year ago 3 min read

Too many times I've found myself wishing on a star for things to be different. I've dropped penny after penny into my fountain of hope mermering silent prayers to the forces at be for things to change.

Too many times I ignored the signs that told me to stop and think and rationalize. Ignored my own instincts and feelings for the sake of your mind.

My insides began to wilt like store bought flowers neglected in the vase on the side table in the corner of the room. The water turns murkier by the hour, and their leaves starve for sunlight that doesn't quite reach them at the angle they sit. If only someone would come and replace the water, cut their stems an inch, and scoot them forward into the light so they could continue to bloom.

But no one will do that, so they will sit there. Neglected.

They wilt and rot and die and crumble apart. Falling pedal by pedal onto the coffee table.

If only someone cared enough to scoop their leaves away and put them out of their misery into the garbage bin, but they sit there day after day untouched.

Too many times I found myself outside of my own body. Sitting on the floor in darkness while someone stood over and yelled at me. Called me names. Told me insults meant to tear me apart. I couldn't tell you what they were because I wasn't there. I let my soul loose to wander around outside the parameters of my mind so I wouldn't have to endure the pain any longer. Whatever world I went to was a better one, a safer one, a more peaceful one.

Too many times now I forget what you did to me, so I write it all down even if it's painful. The specifics are gone but the feelings still linger like the smell of cigarettes stuck on the back of my breath, intertwined into my clothes, lingering in my hair.

As unpleasant as it is, there's some type of comfort in the familiarity of it. The ease of plucking another from the pack and filling my lungs and the air around me in the bitter sweet stench scares me. It would be too easy to have another and another and another. The comfort would be too numbing, so I'll throw the whole pack away after just one and dream of the days I don't buy a pack at all.

How brave that would be.

I talk to people about you and after all the hurt that still weighs heavy in my heart, there is one thought that still haunts me.

The thought that I will never feel this way about anyone else again.

You're words were too sharp or too sweet. Actually, most were drenched in honey and you poured them in my ears as if they were gold, and I took them in as if they were god's. The highs and the rush of love rocketing me into the atmosphere to sore the galaxy on some never-ending magic carpet ride of false promises.

But now I have crash landed and the realization hurts more than anything. No physical pain has ever come close to hurting me this much. Yet, you still won't understand. You still won't understand how much I loved you, and you'll use it against me every day because I walked away.

I didn't love you enough to keep getting beat up by your mental torture. I didn't love you enough to continue to strip away at every part of me that I knew. I didn't love you enough to pour every ounce of energy I had into making sure you were okay when I wasn't okay myself.

And if that's what love was, I don't want it. Not now, not ever again.


About the Creator

Megan Alysse

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