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With a whimper.

A few weeks ago I posted what I thought was going to be the last entry on this blog, but I discovered I had a few things left to say. Now I think I've finally run out of words. I've tried to go through and read some of my earlier pieces for inspiration, however that process proved more difficult that I could have ever imagined.

Everything I had written this year was dedicated to the future, one that will now never come to pass and it's something I don't know how to deal with. The one person who's meant more to me than I ever thought possible is now a stranger and the loss of that connection has been devastating.

I miss her. I miss us. Since I've gotten back I've felt so incredibly empty and every smile I've put on display hasn't been anything other than weakly managed semblance. And that's just the beginning.

Writing doesn't bring me the solace it used to and I feel like that's the last thing I truly had. Maybe one day things will be different and maybe they won't, but this has run its course.

Thank you for following and I wish I could have been better than I am, but I'm not. And for that, I'm eternally sorry.


Noro-Brand New

It's been a week and I've barely left this room. The walls close in a little more with each passing day. I've had a little contact with the outside world with the help of emails and social networks, but they do little to ease the pain.

I spend the days weeping and looking for employment, because financial obligations are a few of the things I've never really been able to escape. It all piles up and I'm not sure if I have the tools to dig myself out of this one. At eventide I scramble to set up the defenses to protect myself from the impending darkness which threatens to consume all that I have left.

When I'm trying to sleep I have a feeling deep within my bones which lets me know I'm not alone. He takes his perch at the foot of the bed and watches me with great interest. He smiles and I can hear the laughter in his voice as he repeats the things she said to me. Then he parrots some of the more destructive thoughts I've had lately.

"You're dying", he tells me.

I close my eyes and I see her. This is what he wants; for the wounds to reopen and the ebb to begin anew. The last nine months flash in as many seconds and it leaves me spent.

When I open them he's lying next to me, smiling so big his face splits. His giggling gets so loud it fills the room and I look at the clock. Four hours left until sunrise.

I'm running out of time.
I tried all day,

To write something down.

But I couldn't get past,

these three little words...

I miss you.

So for now,

I'll succumb to the tears.

And then tomorrow,

I'll try again.

The inevitable fallout

Yeasayer-Madder Red

What started as a drizzle has quickly evolved into a full blown monsoon. Heavy drops pound the windshield severely limiting my visuals and reducing the radio to nothing more than enigmatic whispers. I grip the wheel with both hands and desperately struggle to maintain control. After ignoring all the signs which let me know where this particular road would lead, I soldier on.

In the distance I can barely make out a series of flashing lights. For a split second I close my weary eyes and when I return them to open road I'm left with just enough time to make out the words "Dead End", but nowhere near enough to react. That's when everything slows to a crawl.

The headlights shatter, plunging me into darkness with the demons I've been trying so hard to escape. The music is replaced with the sounds of metal folding in on itself. My face pushes its way through the windshield, reminding me that seatbelts can't funtion properly if you fail to buckle them. Then I'm airborne.

You could argue that this fall was inevitable, but that doesn't make it any less unexpected. The descent goes on for what feels like months and only prolongs the pain I know is going to come any second now.

I meet the pavement face first and go into a skid. I can feel every inch of skin rip from my body until I finally run out of forward momentum. I spit glass and broken teeth and try to catch my breath.

"You need to pick yourself up."

The voice is too far away to distinguish its owner.

"I know it hurts but you've got to move past this."

It's my mother.

"You can't allow yourself to dwell. You have to move on. I'll give you some space."

Then she's gone.

Gone. Just like everything else.

"I don't think I can." I say aloud, not to her, but to the one I left behind. "This time I've lost too much. I don't know how to move on." Every time I speak blood oozes from my gums and slides down my face. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. I never..." With every word my breath becomes shorter, so I decide to make it quick. "I'm just so sorry...for everything."

I use what little strength I have left to flip over on my stomach. With a quick glance upward I can see a sign which reads, "Dallas: 148 miles". I lift myself up onto my elbows and begin to crawl, promising myself not to look back until I get there.