The night that kills

By: Alessandra Paul

Last night a guy asked for some words of wisdom from me, he had just broken up with his girlfriend, and he needed some consoling from me now. He said over and over how he’s ok during the day but the nights were the one’s that killed.

I couldnt give him any words of wisdom I just couldnt tell him much about his situation for I have spent about a year dying every night. My longing for my old love is still there. Missing how his voice would be the last melody and first to hear as I awoke or closed these eyes of mine, has caused such immense agony.

Nights are so hard on me; it’s so hard to drift into a dreaming world without the peace and serenity to ease you down. Every night I just pretend that he is still here, I picture saying goodnight to him and giving him a goodnight kiss. I just dwell on memories to make me fall asleep fast and pretend that he still is in my life and I on his.

I like to believe as if we were still waiting for each other and were getting married after graduation.

Still say to myself how big of a mistake he was, how perfect this creature who’s heart I tore and who killed me was the only man I have ever loved.

My father once said that everyone in our lives are transitory. People come and go and they come only to fulfill a gap, a something we are missing, and leave after their will is done.

That was my only advice for this young guy whose heart was broken, how transitory everyone was but, not to give up his hope for one day we would find closure, we would find someone or something that wasn’t transitory. One day we would find a never ending season where we would be able to stay in forever.

I also told him the soon to be proven truth: time heals all. That new people will merge into his life and that maybe those people will help him forget for a while or break his spell forever.

One day we will love again and be loved in return, have to believe that the night will come when we will be able to close our eyes without any help from anyone, without memories, without suffocating and passing out from the torturing loss.

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