Elaborate Explanation

There are days like today that I just don’t know how to deal. No one would guess though that is how I’m feeling and thinking. This beautiful girl read it all. She knows how it goes and is here for me. The thing is that I don’t think anyone know how amazing she is. Why do people judge her? She is amazing and beautiful. I fear that I will lean to her because she is here to support me. I’ve learned about myself that things are going to be hard. It sucks because I hate him with a passion that no one could truly understand but at the same time I don’t hate him at all. I love him so much that I yearn for him. I hate this. I hate that people say how horrible of a person he is and how I deserve better. I know it’s true but that doesn’t mean I want to hear it. You telling me how horrible he is hurts me more than it would hurt him. It's the same thing with my babygirl. She is gorgeous and amazing and I guess at this moment in life I’ll just sit in the back row of her life and watch and then when she needs me I can step up to the plate. Right now I am fine with the sidelines. So stop....S-T-O-P....that doesn’t mean pause until further informed it means to cease from action. So please, stop telling me she made a bad choice, stop telling me he doesn’t deserve me, stop saying I’m better off without them...it isn’t true. None of it is. I love both of them deeper then you could know. I know every inch of their beings. That’s what you don’t get. I don’t think you understand that they live within me. I am not but one person. I am a combination of the love of those around me. You giving me more love WILL NOT fill the void that not sits where they once were. This is not directed at any one of you....this is directed at all of you. All that spoke to me about this. I bash the two of them. I know this. I have to get the negative energy out somehow but that doesn’t make it okay for you to bash them. As the silent tears stream down my cheek I gasp for the life that is slipping through my lips. My breath goes shallow and I sit knowing that the end is near. I can’t breathe anymore. I know that they are gone. They are dead to me. I feel like a woman whose husband and sister have gone off to war and then gets word that both have gone MIA. You then get a second calling saying both have been named dead but they can’t find the bodies. You have to have a service but can never truly accept that they are dead and have closure because you never say the body. You see. I know that the two of them are dead to me but I haven’t had the closure to be able to drop them. They will forever be in my mind and I will forever have the twinkle of hope that we will be together until I have closure. I talked to a friend. She’s an only child and many years younger than I. She was telling me about all the things that are going on in her life and it opened my eyes. She was like me. She is more mature than all her friends and she sees things that happen in the real world. She knows that there is more to life than who’s dating who and what’s happening in whose life. Gossip is a snake that suffocates those that get to close and she won’t give it the chance to grab her. It’s like I am living all over again because she comes to me with the things she don’t understand. I have been there and have lived it and learned from it and now I am passing my knowledge on to her so that she doesn’t have to hurt through it. She will learn her own lessons but she also is learning from me. It’s like breathing a breathe of fresh air. I spoke to a friend the other day and tried to describe the feeling of not being able to feel. She didn’t understand. I told her that the hardest part of Louie and I not being friends is that he taught me how to feel again. For two years I didn’t feel. I didn’t feel what love was like or hate. I just went through the motions but didn’t actually feel it. I described it as follows. It’s like being locked in a room for many months. You can look out your window and see all the people laughing and enjoying the fresh air but you know you can’t get there. Then someone comes to your door, grabs your hand and takes you to the front door, opens it and allows you a breath of fresh air. They allow you to stand there and absorb all the things that the outside has to offer. You are outside long enough to get used to it. Then the person grabs your hand again, this time with force, drags you back to a different room, this is a glass room, and relocks the door. You now can see nothing but the outdoors that you once had. You can’t avoid it. You’re friends that you made outside keep telling you to come out but you don’t know how. You know that the person who let you out at first is the only one that can get you out again. The experience is only a memory and as time goes on it seems less to be something that happened and more something you must have dreamed. You start to forget what the wind actually felt like and what the air surging through your lungs felt like. You know that the person isn’t going to come back and let you back out so you just sit there suffering for the thing you once had. At the beginning you didn’t know what it was like to be outside so you wondered but it didn’t hurt to not be out there, where as now, you know what it’s like to experience the outdoors and it’s like you’re being tortured to see it. I wish that I could put a board up the walls or be back in my first room. Be back in the room with the small window. I could avoid that window but now I can do nothing but look out at what I once had. I can see nothing but what he took away. Does that make more sense to people? I mean I don’t know what to say to you because you don’t know why I am so upset about this. I’m tired of you trying to cheer me up so I act like I’m fine. This is what’s wrong. None of you knew me before this all. You didn’t know that deep caverns of my heart that are bleeding due to the life that he stole from me. I feel like I am sitting above myself watching me going through the movements but not actually living. It’s like watching a play based on your life. You’re just sitting in the audience watching someone else be you but you have no actual relation to the story that is appearing before your eyes. Fresh red blood is trickling over these flushed cheeks. It is surging out of every pore. Everything inside of me is forcing itself out. Imagine every droplet of blood forcing itself out through your pores. The blood is dripping from the tips of my fingers on the keys. A river of blood is drowning these black lungs. Inhale a breath of smoke. Exhale my childhood. Exhale my life. Exhale my dreams and aspirations. The thick black oil slips down my throat and stops. My lungs have filled and the oil seeps out my nose and mouth. My body has been drained of all blood and the oil forces itself out for it has not life to feed on. Every bit of life that was within these walls of bone has died.