Dear you & you alone,
Get the fuck out of my thoughts. Stop fading in and out of this sitcom I refer to as my life. I'm sorry you took the train straight to crazytown the last few weeks of our relationship but you did. Denial doesn't solve problems.

Yes, the feelings are still there. They've festered. Congratulations, you still have the ability to hurt me. Sadly for you you sadistic bastard [I don't mean that] this is round two. I'm aware of your fight patterns and can throw the punches back to you in a perfect sequence that will undeniably send you toppling over your own lies, my wasted months, and your so called devotion. This time I'm not making with the crazy. No punching mirrors. No hating myself. No rivers of tears. [They'll only come by the bucket full now.]

I love you. I'm in love with you. I'll probably always be. Hah, don't think that means you win. I can get over these feelings. I can move on. Fuck that, I will move on. When you cease to get a response and our eyes finally meet--mine void of emotion [I'll mask my feelings]....you'll have to hand over your trophy.

Who am I kidding? There is no winner or loser in this sort of game. It's not who can hurt who the most. Or lets see how many ways I can paint my love a pretty picture with shifty adjectives and broken sentences instead of conveying to him what I truly feel. It's a game of loss.

We both lost.
We lost each other.
But I refuse to let this hurt continue.
Here I am tapping out fragments full of white coated lies and strong statements overflowing with defiance painting the illusion that I can survive your attacks. Anything to give me a reason to think of you. To bring us to life by the glow of a monitor. Just as we once were when our lips touched.

I have no strength when you’re not in my arms.
Of course you know this.
You always knew it darling.
-Jess