Eye of the storm

 I am looking into the sink, the water slowly fading away, muddy black water, bloodied and disgusting.

My tears are bitter and burn my eyes.

What should I do? What should I have done? This pain is nothing. I can just heal and forget, but my heart, these feelings, its like they will never go away. Will I be able to just forget? How can I start thinking of forgetting this? This is so much of me, such a huge part of my whole being. Its like killing a bigger part of myself then I am able to. I cannot survive this. Will not.

You can and you already did survive more than this. Its recent, it hurts, you are unable to distract your mind, you are only thinking of the blood you are seeing, not the blood that will come. Staying like this will be so much worse, you have no idea how much hurt is in store for you.

I look into the mirror and my bloodshot eyes leer at me; I shudder with disgust. How could I let myself get this low? How, for a second, could I think things would be different? How?

I start crying, again. Ugly sobs, and my body contorts and I can't hold myself straight. I double over in pain and spit a blob of fresh blood on the sink.

This is consequence. Comeuppance. You had your reasons, you believed something different would happen, you tried, and its so, SO beautiful that you tried, you were not afraid to get hurt again, you had the courage that I never thought you would have, again. That is what is important and what you should remember from this. This took heart. You have a heart. Still do. 

My heart screams. Never again, never again, never again. The pain is escalating quickly and my thoughts grow darker by the second. Am I that needy? Am I that desperate? Am I just willing to destroy myself on behalf of what? Dreams? Figments of my imagination? Delirious feverous wishful thinking? Am I crazy? What is the toll of this absurd madness?

Rest, my friend. Do not think of this. Rest. Sleep. Cry your eyes out. This is but the worst part, the beginning. You will grow out of this. It will pass. Believe this pain. Know that it marks you, as one of the living. One of the brave. One of the persistent. You have not given up yet. You hurt because you care.

I stayed down. My sobs eventually died down. My split mind finally found comfort in nothing. I decided not to hurt myself anymore. Some time passed. I got up. I cleaned myself on the sink again. The foul stench was almost gone. The rough edges of my hand were clean. My tears were not burning anymore. 

I tried. I failed. I was not aware of what I wanted, again. I could do more. I will do more next time. I will be more certain. I will me more incisive. I will be more whole. I stay broken, but I will glue myself. 

As my thoughts stopped hurting, I moved to the bedroom. I changed clothes. I got comfortable and laid down on my bed. I bawled my eyes out, until I could not cry anymore. Until it felt good. My resolve was not clear, but was there; Let it go, but don't give up.

And I slept. 

I dreamt of your naked back again.