
There is an emptiness in me that I drown in.
I cannot seem to swim out or swim away.
I am trying.
“Bullshit you’re trying.” It thinks.
Can you see through me? I ask to myself when I pass people.
Is it that obvious I am hurting?
My one true love is the bottle.
It’s been five years.
Almost.
Nothing seems to separate us.
It is an unhealthy relationship, I will admit.
It knows I am lost in my own emotions.
It knows I wish I could not feel.
It knows I wish I could not hear, could not see, could not breathe.
“But I will make you feel better,” It tempts me.
“I will make you forget everything,” It lies.
I still don’t forget those three days at the hospital after I tried to die.
I still don’t forget that Fourth of July night when I blacked out,
Only to wake up with someone I considered a friend on top of me.
I do not forget the tears.
I do not forget the times I wanted to rip every inch of my skin off.
I do not forget the constant loneliness.
I do not forget the isolation and regrets.
So, screw you, “my love”.
I wonder if I ever truly loved you in the first place.
I will go on without you.
Nicole,
This is really good stuff. I can relate to it. If you’d like, I can send you the first chapter of my memoir. It is about an unhealthy relationship I had when I was 21.