This Time

I watch the soap bubbles patiently line up, awaiting their turn to swirl down the drain.  I feel tears pushing at my eyes in an effort to join them.  I’m afraid to cry because I might not stop.  But I ask myself why.  Why cry?  I continue scrubbing So Il off my body.  This time I’m not scrubbing off sex.  I’m not scouring away the ingestion of drugs.  I’m not even washing away a hangover.  It’s just pain and brokenness… the natural human emotion of heartbreak.

More hair is falling out that I’ve seen in a while and my fingers are shriveling.  Apparently getting rid of heart pain is more difficult than I imagined.  Your most precious, cherished friend can’t even look at you… and you’re staring at the remnants of another who is clearly existing as a walking skeleton… and a lifeless corpse lies in the coffin 40 feet across the room…

and somehow you have to continue breathing.

This time I waited too long to see everybody.  I thought I was protecting everyone.  But it turns out that staying away has never fixed a single problem.  in some ways I protected myself.  It was easier not to watch people I love fall apart and destroy themselves.  I wish I could wash all of their pain down the drain.

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