I’m sitting here numb. Dazed. Dissociated. I know there is commotion around me as I can hear the police and the paramedics through the fog of my shock. Out of the corner of my eye and through the blur of my drying tears, I see you, they are taking you away on a gurney. You aren’t dead, although you sure tried your best to be. The police are questioning me; I have to snap myself out of it long enough to tell them about the pills you took, how many, what kind, and why. I honestly have no idea, only knowing what I saw when I found you sprawled out on our bed pills scattered around you. The police leave and I lose it. The house is quiet. I have to get out because it is suffocating me. Replaying everything I found out about you in the past week, wanting to turn back time and forget it. But I can’t erase what I found out, knowledge and time are funny that way.

Fast forward 6 months and I’m sitting here at work listening to my iPod and frou frou, “It’s good to be in love,” came on… the artwork is from the CD you made me when we first started dating. What happened to us? Where did it go so horribly wrong? I miss you. It hurts so badly sometimes and the only way I can make it through without breaking down and crying is to stay angry, but I worry about what that is doing to me in the long run.

When I’m alone at night I try and recapture that feeling. I’ll lay there in the dark and think as hard as I can about those first few months, almost willing them to come back to me; willing your betrayal and lies away to be replaced by the sweet love and safety I felt in your arms. But it seems that no matter how hard I try, I can only feel a small portion of those feelings now. A ghost of the way you used to make me feel. The memories are there, though the feelings are fleeting; just out of reach. Songs will come on the radio that will take me right back and make me hungry to feel that way again. Can I ever feel that way again? Am I even capable now or is something inside me broken beyond repair? Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I want us back. Well, that’s not completely true. Most of the time I want us back. I want the us back who couldn’t wait to see each other even if it had only been 5 minutes since we left each other. I miss the us who would ditch class and go make out in my car like sneaky teenagers, or just go drive around and talk about anything and everything. I miss feeling like the two of us could take on the world and anything it had to throw at us, hands held the whole time. I miss the us who it took every ounce of self control to keep our hands off each other. I miss getting an email in my inbox every morning to start my day (I still have every email you’ve ever sent me… I just can’t bring myself to delete them). I miss those people. Sometimes I wonder if they even exist anymore.

On top of everything that happened and everything you did to me and put me through I have this enormous guilt. I broke a promise to you. I promised you over and over again that I would never leave you. And for the broken promise I am sorry. But I just couldn’t…just can’t deal with what happened and still be able to look at you and hold you and kiss you and tell you that I love you and that everything is going to be okay because I don’t know that it is. I honestly can say that I have no clue what the future holds for you, for me, or for us…if there even is such a thing anymore.

I want to someday be able to look at you and speak to you without getting so angry I want to scream at you until your eardrums break and my throat bleeds. That day is not today, maybe tomorrow…