the emotional and mental diarrhea is over.

i’m done venting about it, i’m done hurting, i’m done crying, i’m done.
i’m done acting like i was cool when everything was said and done. i wasn’t. that made things worse.
denial is a bitch, but its the into of the book…
then came the chapter on anger, followed by hurt, topped off with sadness and depression.
alas, the chapter of freedom comes.
the cleansing… had to be the favorite chapter.

your picures are gone. no need to see your smile or your candid moments. no need to be reminded of how you used to hold me all cheesy and pose for ya cousin as he snapped pictures of so called happy moments.

no extra toothbrush in the caddy above the sink. no little bottles of cologne or things of deodorant reminding me of that familiar scent i’d love to fall asleep and wake up next to.

drawers and closet space now empty from where your items used to reside.

getting used to rolling over in the bed and feeling cold sheets where the warmth of your body used to be.

knowing when i hear keys jingle in the hallway, its not you coming home.

knowing that my phone wont ring late at night or early in the morning.

knowing i’m back to tossing and turning

no one to put me to sleep

no one to hold me until i drift off

no one to stay on the phone with all night until phones go dead

knowing that if i fall asleep with no blanket over me, with the tv or light on…
i’ll freeze, noise will stay in the background, and he light will burn until daylight.

but with all that, i know you are the one who will suffer most in the end, so i’m fine.

so i turned the page and started the chapter of laughter. looking back, being able to laugh and think of things and still be fine.
read right through resolve, so now i’m at the epilogue.

looked back on it all, learned a lesson, now i’m closing the book.

the end.