A Thursday night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another lonely night and only my thoughts to keep me company.
I just had the urge to put my current mental state into words.

Submitted: July 27, 2017

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Submitted: July 27, 2017

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I have trouble breathing. My lungs don’t work. My chest is tied. My nose is stuffy. The tears burn down my cheeks. It hurts. Everything hurts. But what hurts most is my heart. Not from a wound, not from a disease, but from my thoughts. How could a thought, no, many thoughts, hurt physically? My very own brain is working against me. Reason tells me I shouldn’t be worried. He has assured me he loves me. He has assured me he will come back. He promised we’ll see each other again. Many times. But my brain screams lie.
During the day I can tune it out. Most times. I will still look at my phone every 5 minutes, even though it didn’t vibrate. You never know. It might have broken in the past 300 seconds.

But when it’s dark in my bedroom, when the laptop screen is the only light and the youtube videos and Netflix are my only solace, then the thoughts come back.
How can he say he loves me after a week? How could he possibly ever feel the way that I feel?
“He can’t.”, it whispers. “He’s lying to you. Maybe he’s lying to himself. Maybe he just doesn’t know what it really feels like. Or maybe he’s just toying with you. And as soon as he comes back home he’s in her arms again, because she’s pretty and she knows him and she is there and you are not.” And I try to answer. He’s not. He’s nice and caring and understanding. He’d never do that.
But the brain doesn’t hear it. It’s too busy making up scenarios, too busy hurting. Itself and everything else. The thoughts move down the nervous system into the stomach. The stomach wants to turn and throw up. The thoughts move into the limbs. They want to curl into a ball and scratch and pinch the skin so that there is other pain as well, a real reason to justify the tears. The back, the feet, the ears, the eyes, the mouth, everything is affected. The lungs want to hyperventilate.
Slow, deep breaths. In and out.
A cough.
The brain has turned the whole body against itself, because it is foolish. If it suffers, it wants everything to go down with him.
‘be reasonable. think. do something else. get your mind off him. he will text or he won’t. it doesn’t matter.’, finally the small voice comes through. The voice of reason. It does speak the truth.
I need to get my mind off him. Writing has helped. Now off to something else. Let’s get our ass off to the bathroom. We need the distraction. And we need the toilet.


© Copyright 2017 Leia Duststorm. All rights reserved.

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