The persistence of memory.

Dear Time, please don't leave me behind.
       Please don't leave me in the moment of a broken heart, after a love leaves and the other half of the bed goes cold. Don't leave me waking up every morning wondering how I'm going to survive the numb feeling of loss, the empty feeling of that missing piece.
Why is it that when two lovers part ways, one always gets left behind to pick up all the broken pieces, so small and fragile it's even questionable if it can be pieced back together. And the one who doesn't, has the strength to replace the once so vibrant love in an instant.
       For all those lucky enough to have never been left behind, let me paint a picture, a monét of emotion if you will....

       Being left behind is standing in a club watching a car crash unfold. Watching the man who holds your delicate heart in his perfect hands, reach out for somebody that isn't you. Being left behind is being told that he loves you but in that same millisecond throw his arms around another girl and pull her close to his face. Being left behind is watching him leave with her and still loving him so deeply as he does it. Being left behind is being looked in the eye as he disrespects you and pulls her into the taxi and you feel the warmth of the unforgiving tears cascading down your frozen cheeks. Being left behind is knowing you should have left hours ago but you're too deeply broken, you're paralysed in horror. Being left behind is him pretending he doesn't know you when he sees you, like the two years of love and devotion never happened. Like I never happened. Then being laughed at, like your raw emotion is all a joke, one night of comedy with yours truly.
       Being left behind is praying, hoping he won't make the choice to be intimate with her, please God, Mother nature, fate, whoever..... Please I beg you that intimacy was only for me. Being left behind is knowing that he will.
       Being left behind is going home and spending the dead of night crying in the toilet because the vision burnt into the back of your eyes of your man kissing another girl makes you sick to your stomach. Being left behind is playing the bad parts on repeat over and over and over again like a groundhog day of true undeniable misery. Being left behind is being told he just needed space, and actually being stupid enough to believe he'd come back, open arms and open heart.     
      Being left behind is realising everything you did for them, all the support, all the dedication, all the money, all the love, means nothing really in the end. Because sooner or later that tight grip you had on your life will slip away, and they will walk away from you no matter how much you beg them to stay. And you will be so overcome by grief and confusion you will succumb to crazy, frantic to prevent them from falling through the cracks in your tired fingers.
       And your heart will break. And you will cry. And all of the love, the happiness, the laughs, the cuddles, the meals, the plans..... well, I guess they don't matter anymore. Because all that matters right now is him and her driving away into the distance in that taxi. And the longer I watched, and further it drove, the faster my heart started to shatter. Because in that one moment I knew he was gone. The hope had died. He had moved on.

So dear time, please don't leave me behind.

The Operating Theatre.

     A healing heart has never felt such disorientated confusion as it does 3 months post break up. The numb feeling that encompasses an organ once so dominant with the ideology of someone else, now laying dormant in preparation for the next human catalyst.
     After all the heartbreak and falsified hope, unrequited love turned into passionate hate. After the slow and painful acceptance that the love will never return, that he's not coming back and once again you have been left on your own to face your replacement. Forgive it, the heart is exhausted.
     Still lingering in the infinite void between leaving love behind and discovering someone else, it is at this three month time frame that it struggles with the option of either being completely alone, detached from the magnetic attraction of what makes love so addictive. Or... does a heart need to discover a connection so pure that all others that may have graced it will be forgotten.

     I never did enjoy the healing process, my heart and head are caught up in a hospital bed, bound with slings and tubes and doctors notes. It does feel liberating to not be so broken anymore. I can feel the bones mending and molding, the sharp pain disintegrating into a numb nothingness. I can get out of this hospital bed unassisted, a few weeks earlier being so unsure of my future to even stand again. My feet have never failed me, i almost feel a raging guilt for ever doubting them or myself. I am now faced with the decision: to excuse ones self from love or be loved unconditionally?

Ladders.

I'm sure it's not so bad after a while, sleeping on your own. Once the pillows lose your scent and the warm dent in the mattress misplaces your shillouette. I cannot even force the will to sleep in my own bed, it just reminds me of you. I close my eyes, can almost feel skin on skin. Your gentle embrace.

Desperate for the pillows to whisper sweet nothings upon my temples, "sluggy i love you." Replacing the butterly kisses for zebra stripes, face mapped out by heartbreak.

I starved myself for 4 days, i just wanted to look lovely for you. I spent hours attempting a masterpiece to set your eyes upon. Primed, framed, signed. I cried for what seemed years as my effort was neglected. Watercolour taxi seats and streetlights.

I wanted to inhale your hands, your arms, your torso, your breath. But now its just myself and the thought of you, and how it won't be so bad sleeping on your own.

My Babadook.

     There's alot you can figure out about yourself whilst you're curled up motionless at the bottom of a rapidly cooling bathtub, staring at the wrinkled skin around the cuticles of ones toenails. And it doesn't matter how long you lounge, no amount of scrubbing or cleaning or desperate pleading can clean the tarnished soul now living inside of you. You are dirty. No sugarcoating, no softening or dampening. You, are dirty. A dirty soul for dirty thoughts and actions hand-in-hand. You can feel it too.
     I can't stop it. All i can do, is lay in the bathtub night after night and wait for slumber to once again make any form of contact. Minutes turn into hours and hours turns into the bars that trap me inside my own head, and that is where you are waiting. What is a girl to do? Nobody told me that when you are young and scared of the dark, monsters are not the only thing waiting for you to close your eyes. There's something much worse, something else waiting for you to slip into the void between the conscious and subconscious, something that your parents never mentioned in hope that you'd never be forced to meet it, something that doesn't diminish when you reach for the light..... and that monster is known as guilt.
     It eats away at you until you are an empty shell of who you once were, leaving just enough of you behind so noone would even notice you were gone. But now i don't know what to do. I let it in and it's consumed my whole body, i'm stuck in the four walls of my mind, screaming from the inside and all i can see is darkness. And you. I haven't forgotten about you. You're the one who summoned it here and i foolishly let it in, why did i let it in?
    I have never been in this position before, i constantly promised myself "it's not that bad, people have done worse" but i lied and i believed it. This is how it must feel on the other side and now i'm standing here with every single person who hurt me comparing notes and praying for forgiveness. How can i be happy when i keep ruining things for myself? People change, and i am changing, manifesting into a monster which i cannot control. I hate who i have become.

                     I'm afraid of meeting decent people, in fear i'll eat them alive too.

     So i guess all i'm left with is this porcelain cradle and a tanks worth of cold water, minutes will turn into hours and hours into thoughts and flickering eyelids. Maybe soon i'll have learnt how to breathe underwater, just so i can find the words to apologize to you for the monster i have become.

What ties me to you is guilt.

You look reasonably happy for someone who is not.

I don't want to die alone and not be found till my bones are clean and the rent overdue.

Crave. 13

You're tragic, I'm tragic.

I can't believe i continued to respect you, even after you'd taken the food from my mouth.

You starved me for so long, and you just stole the oxygen from my already sunken lungs.

Co2

And it just keeps on coming. Constant verbal mistakes. Things i say that i shouldn't indulge upon. The cake that you shouldn't taste and share with your friends, but you offer it around like an unwanted animal at a grimey house party. Have your cake, eat it and choke upon it.

Strings.

Take me. Take me and fold me into a million tiny shapes. Mold and manipulate me, pushing me through holes and infinite voids. Use me, consume me, break me until my ends are rough with wear.

I'm completely captivated by you.

With Love.

Now i think about it i never really did get a chance to desperately tell you how much you ment to me. I made the sincere mistake of never letting you know what loosing you would actually do to me.
      You were beautiful, with the kind of eyes that could warm me from the inside like a sweet milky cup of tea on a bitter December morning, (If you remember rightly we met in December). You WERE my milky cup of tea, and when my lips touched you and i inhaled your painfully addictive warmth everything and almost anything seemed better. You were good for me, in fact you were even better. And not the 'You're perfect' kind of good, the kind of good which lights up your soul and grows and continuously gets brighter and illuminates any dark cobwebbed corner that could have potentially been dead and untouched for years. You made me feel alive after feeling nothing but dull bitterness for so long.
      I tickled you almost everytime i saw you, not to aggravate you like you first thought, but just to simply see you smile, because to me, that smile was like ecstasy. It cradled my tummy and forced my head to cloud with dizziness. Its one of the many things about you which no matter how desperately hard i try, it will never leave me. So many things remind me of our time we spent together, they make your name resound in my head like and annoying clang or a consistent buzz of tinitus that could keep me awake at night.

I just wanted to tell you that you still keep me up late at night. You're my insomnia and I'm sorry i lost you but thank you for the plethora of emotions you made me discover.

Lucid.

Your presence approached me as i looked out over the garden and admired the young free spirits embracing their freedom by the lake. I turned and looked at you as you rested one elbow on my tiny shoulder. My eyes frosted over with tears and my chest tightened as you turned and smiled at me. I was angry that after everything, after that completely horrible situation, that you could just expect me to feel okay with letting you back into my life again.

Your perfect wide smile made my heart hurt with every single beat. And it played on the back of my ribcage like a hollow drum. I always told you my favourite thing about you was your smile. I remember how i used to tickle you, just to see you smile. Oh god, you're beautiful! And looking at you reminded me of all those wonderful times we layed in bed and i just clung onto your chest, listening to your heartbeat so perfectly as you sung sweet symphonys to me. And it reminded me how much it hurt me when you carelessly left my dreams and walked into hers, nonchalantly.

I asked you where she was and why you had appeared on this balcony with me. "I made a mistake babeh, i miss you." Just to hear you call me baby again, filled my abdomen with 5 million feather butterflies. A golden warmth flooded from my heart and hit every corner of my body. You made me shine, like the brightest of starts. The kind of stars you wish upon.

You wrapped your familiar arms around me in an embrace which seemed to last forever, an embrace which i willed to last longer than forever. Your smell so comforting, your voice so deep it sends shivers down my spine and your eyes so bright they could lend light to any desperate room. You pulled me closer to your face and smiled. The smile forced me to become so weak at the knees i almost fell at your feet. Then the kiss, so magnetic, so magnificent, so soft and passionate that i swear, just for a moment, time stopped and nothing else mattered. I could feel your hands caressing the back of my head, pulling me desperately close, making all my tiny hairs stand up on end. The happiness inside myself was overwhelming.

Then i woke up. I looked to the side of me and you weren't there. Nobody was. I could still feel your hands on the back of my head. And the warm feeling faded. The happiness faded. Dreams can feel so real.

Playing with fire.

And the flame ignited so fast that neither him, her nor their friends could comprehend how magnificent in size the flames would become. It was bountiful and bright and visually magnetic. But something that burns so brightly is bound to be extinguished just as fast.

Please don't burn anybody.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

The sad thing is i think we were ment to be together

Simon and Garfunkel  forever

.....and then it rains

Take it from me...

Never trust a man who makes you immune to the british weather. He has ulterior motives

Write it on the skyline

Are you familiar with that feeling you get, when your whole body goes cold? Like someones opened a window to a warm room on a winters morning. That gut feeling you get that sends shivers down your spine and makes all of the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, then my mum would usually follow with "Whats up has someone walked over your grave?" just like clockwork.
Or rather when someone carelessly tells you something you've been trying to avoid over hearing for months, or maybe a year and a half? And when you hear it, it messes you up so much inside, mentally and emotionally, that the only thing your capable of feeling is that farmiliar cold shiver of dread. Possibly hearing the words "Im seeing someone" echo from that one person you've always been scared to let go of just in case one day he might decide he misses you. Or maybe its the confirmation that he doesnt miss you, and probably doesnt actually give a proverbial shit at all. But i know what it definately is........ it's definately the wonderful, fresh yet undoubtedly harsh feeling of reality pissing all over your parade. And you just brought new shoes.

Every rooftop has a blue skyline......

I've met someone. I didnt even mind the rain today

Reblogged

If you dont understand me, your understanding perfectly.

"I guess some people are just born with tragedy in their blood"

I really do miss having someone to hold on to at night. I mean, its completely acceptable being single and i promised i'd love no one else before i loved myself, but i feel im being starved of a compassionate touch.
I miss being loved unconditionally

6:34 we meet again

Again i find myself in an insomniac daze, blankly staring at the golden sunlight creeping ever so quietly throught my bedroom door. Maybe its because im thinking about you again. Or rather love.
Im plagued by the consequenses of my own actions, my own careless mistakes. But mistakes seem to be the only thing i can achieve at the moment. I can only be used.

Hell proof

Last night was possibly the lowest point ive been at in a while.
I let everyone and their playground antics get to me. Im not usually like that but if you keep adding more water to an already full bath tub its inevitable its going to over flow and ruin the furnished floor that surrounds it. Well looks like i forgot to turn off the tap before i left for my local thursday activities. And whats worse is i let people see the damaged it caused.

Ive never had confidence issues until now, and ive never felt as agrophobic as i have recently. But in a way im glad of my low period. Im glad i slipped on the remians of the overflow, it showed me just who would run to pick me up. And fuck, there are some amazing people in my life.
For every person that spoke to me, thank you. I just needed pulling back up on my feet, brushing down and straightening back into reality.
You've all reminded me who i am and who i can be. What was i thinking? Im not this weak person who bows down to play ground bullies. I stopped doing that years ago. Im well on my way to finding myself again. And i need to learn to love myself before i can love someone else.

"So come on Laura, suck it up, fill your pockets with pride and take it all on the chin. Fuck everyone who doubts you and makes you doubt yourself. You've worked incredibly hard to get to this point, you dont need to prove anything to anybody. Get out there and have fun while you still can. Dont wait for men, make them wait for you. Love yourself" - Conscience

Im a strong person. I know im a strong person. I must be. HE text me. I declined his offer.


And i wont look back

And I still hold your hand in mine. In mine when I'm asleep.

I feel the need to blog, i only feel this either when i need to empty my head, or let my fingers push the keys so i can concentrate on sorting out the mess that is my mind.

Ive been thinking about you again today, my mind can be so clear and satisfied until you force your way in like an unwanted midnight intruder to mess up and cause chaos in all my thoughts ive just organised.
You confuse me, i know i miss you, and i know i still feel something for you, but my heart desperately wants to find someone else. I cant figure out right now if i still love you or if i hate you.
And as much as i try to find someone else, the thought of you pulls me back. No one has stood a chance so far and i know, thats just the way you like it. I guess i just need to get my head around how one person can go from their world... to nothing but the dirt beneath their shoes. How can you fall out of love so quickly? And why cant i do it?

Oh toby, my feline friend

They say dog is a mans best friend, well what about a woman? Besides the materialistic things of course. What is left to love you at the end of the day when the object of your desires has left and your heart is empty?
My mum brought me a kitten when my heart shattered, she knew full well if i had something else to love each and every day a small part of my heart would heal. Eventually, the numbness of having an empty heart would leave. Tobys not exactly 'him' but id be lost without his cute little face.

My advice to anyone going through a break up.... buy yourself a kitty.