One Less Second

She was as precious to me as my own heart, so it wasn't fair that she would go on to break my treasure to pieces. Or maybe it was my fault. I pushed and she pulled, simple as that. Except it wasn't. It wasn't simple at all. 

I could go on to tell all her good traits, what I liked about her, why I loved her. That isn't the reason I jot this down though. It's more for closure. I'm not brave enough to call her number that is still in my contact list, nor am I brave enough to do anything about her email that I see every time I send someone else a message. So I write. I write because I feel the need to do so...so that maybe random memories that have got me smiling no longer pop into my brain when I'm alone with my thoughts. That's right, she made me smile all the time. She made me happy, but now just the thought of her just leaves me a mess...

Yet, I still have to be strong. It would be irresponsible to let myself fall apart and keep crying silently in the middle of the night remembering her; the way she laughed like summer bells, or the way she would tilt her head when she asked me a question, or even how she held my hands whispering in my ear all about our inside jokes.

There I go again, my thoughts running tangents that lead to her, always her. It constantly frustrates me that there isn't more I could do. There is no guidelines on how to fall out of love. I'm just stuck hoping that tomorrow I'll think about her just one second less than I did today.

Reviews

[Arron Steep (AKA Reid A..]

I enjoyed the tone of this piece. Very smooth. It's personal, relational. Somewhat stream of consciousness without being overly wordy or convoluted. The first sentence is solid, a great hook. Also, this piece is a worthy testament to the paradox of trying to express the "intimate inexpressibles" of the heart. Well done.