Some Notes for Fragments of Fiction May 2008

I still believe in love, even though you don't love me anymore. I still believe in the dream. I still believe that I can reach your heart. I know that I can touch you, hold you, fill up the empty places. All I need is the chance.

The day you left I sat apart and alone and I have lived my life like that ever since. It is my choice. It is my decision. I sit in the dark and stare off into nothingness wondering if the door will open and I'll find you there.

It is a dream that I have often. Alone in the dark I stare and wonder what I did to deserve such pain. I beat myself up wondering why. It is easier to blame myself and to keep you on your pedestal.

After a time the empty place in my heart feels normal as does the numb spot where my soul once lay. Do you remember the shirt you left at my place? I didn't wash it because it smelled like you. For a while I would bury my face in it, smell you and forget that you weren't really here.

For a while it helped me pretend that I wasn't just a shell of a person and that once I used to know how to smile.

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