but inside I'm screaming...

June 21, 2011

who would have thought that two words could tear your whole world apart and bring you to your knees? Two words, two little words. He's gone. And I did not scream, I did not quit breathing, I did not swallow a bottle of pills. But can't you hear it? Inside I'm screaming. Inside I can't breathe. Can't you hear me screaming? Can't you see it in my eyes?

I was told that because I was not hysterical I must not have loved him. I ask you again, can you not hear it? Inside I am screaming. Inside I have been screaming for four years and 18 days. Why can't you hear it? Why can't you look in my eyes and see it? Let's jump back four years, eighteen days. My world has just ended. I am in unimaginable pain. I am terrified. I do not say a word, but inside I am screaming. I do not say a word, but I want to die. I do not say a word, but I am empty. Can you hear me now? Inside I'm screaming. Two words can tear you in two, empty you out, make you want to die. There is only pain and emptiness, and the barren landscape of your own soul. There is only darkness and hope is out of reach. You don't know how to breathe, but you do. You don't know how to walk, so you crawl. You are terrified to sleep because of the nightmares, and even more terrified to be awake. Inside it is loud, so loud. But the quiet would be worse. You sleep with the TV on because in the raging quiet the memories are too much. Everything, absolutely everything is a reminder of what you have lost, what has been taken from you. Every breath hurts because your heart has been ripped out. You don't want to go on, but you have to, somehow. You need to get away, so you run. You run and you run and you run. You try to numb your pain. There is no light, no hope. Life does not get any more desolate than what you see inside yourself. And inside I am screaming.