Moving Past My Tears

I can’t keep looking behind me

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My friends are pissed at me.

Why do you keep going back?” they exclaim, frustrated by my updates on our relationship. “There is nothing there! Only heartache. He’s telling you stories to keep you available, at his beck and call.”

Ouch.

That’s not accurate. You’re not manipulating me, pulling my heartstrings so you can play me. That’s not the type of man you are. It goes against everything I’ve heard and learned about you over the years.

You can’t fake who you are for that long.

But you give me nudges.

Little messages meant to show me you still care. That you haven’t gone anywhere, you hope I’ll come back, even when you understand why I left in the first place. That hope lives on for us.

Hope dies a little more each day.

The wound starts to heal when I feel like I’m moving ahead. Every step gives me more ground between us, and it hurts less. I can breathe a little deeper. Then I read one of your messages.

It brings me back to square one.

Hurt spurts through me like blood escaping a puncture wound. I’m bleeding out and crying through the pain. Nothing works at that moment.
I am lost…