Me Without You

I see shattered hearts and shattered glass and window panes streaked with rain from the departing storm. The old worn paths we used to walk are gone now, overgrown and forgotten and all I want is to remember the feeling of when we were young and I saw fireworks in your eyes and nothing could stand in our way. These days I drink my coffee alone and wake up in a cold bed and I tell myself our stories to get me though the day and I hope that I made a difference in your life or that sometimes I cross your mind because we were beautiful together and I struggle every day to adjust to a life without you. I don’t sleep well anymore because when I close my eyes, you’re there, and I’m staring at your back again but no matter how fast I run you’re out of reach. I remember the arguments and the late nights waiting at home alone when you never called and falling asleep at the dinner table next to a plate of food slowly growing cold, but I still miss you because I searched for meaning where there was none and I saw love that had been used up and dried out long before I met you and I thought you were the world, but I was foolish and I looked at you like a child looks at the stars in the sky and I reached for you but you were distant and cold and watched as I fell, tripping over my own feet to get to you. Occasionally I walk the paths we used to follow and visit the places we used to call ours and I think about what we could have been, but we were destined to go our separate ways and I will learn to live without you and one day in the future I will remember you and what we were and smile fondly at our memory, and the gaping cavity in my heart you left behind will heal and one day, I know, I will be whole again.


 

Daily Prompt: But No Cigar

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Breathing Smoke

I am a smoker because one day, a boy with brown hair and blue eyes sitting against a tree in the woods offered me a cigarette and I didn’t say no.

I am a smoker because smoking is more socially acceptable than cutting and I used to be a cutter.

I am a smoker because the smoke helps me breath, the smoke helps me think, the smoke helps me clear my head of all the clutter that builds up over time.

I am a smoker because the future terrifies me and painting my lungs black with disease seemed like a better option.

I am a smoker because I give in too easily to my emotions, to my old habits, to my private fears.

I am a smoker because enough will never be enough and letting go is never what it seems.


In response to the Daily Post’s prompt: Enough Is Enough

 

The Act of Falling

It’s easy to fall. It starts slow, with a slip or a misstep, and then a stumble, and I try to catch myself but I lose my footing and the ground crumbles out from under me and I’m falling. It comes to the point when I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. My actions and words are foreign and I watch as I spiral further down, trying desperately not to lose control, but the more I fight back, the more tangled I become, and I’m caught, running like a fool in a maze with no end.

It’s easy to fall, and once falling, it’s hard to stop. It’s hard to climb and scratch and claw my way back to the surface and I don’t want to, until I’m sitting at the bottom of a hole I dug myself into looking up at what once was but isn’t anymore. I realize I like falling. I like the feeling of recklessness and impulsive decisions, until I see my reflection in the eyes of a friend, or a family member, or a kind stranger, and what I see is not me.

It’s easy to fall, it’s the impact that hurts the most. The moment when I hit the bottom, when I look around and see the mess I’ve made and the people I’ve dislodged and brought crashing down with me as I haphazardly grabbed at anything that I thought would make the landing more bearable. But the landing was not more bearable and I realize I can’t fall anymore, but I’ve said that before and I’ll say it again, and I falter and hesitate as I pick myself up off the ground watching the sunrise as it sheds new light on my existence and in this instant, all is right in the world.


In response to the Daily Post’s Prompt: Easy Fix.

A Man in a Hat

Pleased to Meet You: Write a post in which the protagonists of two different books or movies meet for the first time. How do they react to each other? Do they get along?


Dear friend,

My cheeks are red from being outside but I’m not outside anymore and I’m not sure when I came in. I’m sitting in the corner of the room watching things move. Everything moves slow, so slow it disappears. I can’t keep track of them anymore. A man in a hat was sitting with me but then he wasn’t and now he is again. I don’t look at him just in case he’s not really there. I’m afraid he’s not really there.

“Are you Alice?”, the man in the hat asks. It’s funny that he would ask that because Alice is a girl’s name and I’m not a girl.

“No, I’m Charlie. You’re not real, the dragon outside wasn’t real either. Am I going mad?”

“We’re all mad here, Alice.”, the man in the hat says smiling. Then he disappears and I’m walking now but I don’t remember getting up. I remember not wanting to be in the house anymore with Sam and Craig and Patrick and Brad in the other rooms, and the walls were too thin so I left but it’s cold outside.

I wonder where the man in the hat went.

Love always,
Charlie

 


Characters are Charlie from the Perks of Being a Wallflower and the Mad Hatter from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Loosely based on the scene in the Perks of Being a Wallflower in which Charlie is given something that causes him to hallucinate.