Hurting.

Our relationship had survived so much.
I lay here and wonder if it could survive the truth.
Or for that matter, the lies, the unspoken lies.

Over the years Ive learned not to judge. I just listen and I empathize.
But for some reason I did not want to listen to her.

I reached in to my bag and pressed a T- shirt against my face.
This wasnt comforting. It was weird and it hurt like *****.
But it was her smell, a part of her, and I did it anyway.

The old saying Its better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was playing on my mind. What Bullshit. Its not better trust me, dont show me paradise and then have it burn down.

I stared down at the shirt in my hands and surprised myself by saying.

I miss her so much.

The pain started flooding in again.
I reached over for my drink on the bedside table and grabbed it a little too quickly, spilling some on the bed sheets as I raised it to my mouth.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to wish the pain away, but it was too late the tears were already filling my eyes and spilling down my cheeks.
I did not bother to wipe them away.


Bette. I whispered. How could you hurt me like this?