Derailed

Where do I begin? Do I begin with the loss? Do I begin with the tragedy? Or the succumbing need to rip my heart right out of my chest and step on it a million times over?
Oh.
For a moment there, I forgot I had no heart.
I forgot it had been stolen from me and stomped on a trillion times without me having a say in the matter.

What is love?
Love is pain.
Love is sadness.
Love is the ability to be dead but still breathe in oxygen.

I had my life planned. I had it all dotted to the last sentence.
But I throw it all away, just because he saw me.
He saw the real me. The one with insecurities and uncertainties.
The little girl behind my thick facade.
He knew my real name.
He saw my sadness.

I thought I had finally found the one for me.
Until I realized that I had never felt so alone until I lost the only person I thought I finally had.

All gone.
In seconds.

He left me so suddenly that for a moment.
I thought I were in a dream. A beautiful dream with love and light.
A dream with little birds singing happy songs, expressing my feelings along with them.

But then it felt like I being being pulled into black abyss.
An abyss without emotions or sight.
An abyss of unexplainable sadness and fright.

I feel weak and feeble.

I never knew love could hurt like this.