Copyright November 2000

It hurts. It hurts so very bad.

There is pain, a real crushing pain in my chest. It goes deep, residing in the very depth of my soul.

I wonder if the wound will heal. I know there will be a scar . . . a scar that will pull on my heart for all time. A mental, emotional reminder of what has been ripped from my being.

I've been betrayed; my trust shattered, so carelessly, so callously.

There are no words I can offer in explanation. No understanding for what he has done to me. I continue to drown in a spectrum of emotions. Shock, anger, sadness, rage.

I question myself, the life I shared with him. Countless what ifs plague my mind, robbing my nights of sleep, of rest. Self-doubt is there, always slipping quietly into my thoughts. Was it my fault?

The heavy silence, the empty bed haunts me. Scares me. I'm alone now. No arms to comfort me. No hands to soothe the sadness, to calm the anger.

Family and friends offer comfort but there is no true understanding. One, two know the pain but distance and separate, busy lives come between us.

I long to lose myself in the embrace of another's love. To feel arms close around my body. To surrender to the warm touch of fingers on my naked flesh. To shelter my heart in an understanding love.

Each day goes by slowly, haltingly. Each second reminding me of the future that is no longer mine.

Solace is not found in work. There is pain hidden in the depths of each smile I am forced to offer. Sorrow as I reach out and touch the gift I am denied for all time.

Tears threaten as depression grips my soul. Simple pleasures are reminders I cannot deal with.

I wish for death . . . not of life but of this pain, this emptiness, this aloneness. I'm lost and there is no one to lead me out of this darkness.

I pull the covers over me, huddling underneath, hiding the tears that rebel against my pitiful control. Exhausted not only of body but of heart, I surrender, knowing nightmares will haunt me.

I close my eyes, never seeing the one who hesitates in the doorway.

To be continued . . .