It’s been four days of the emotional floods. With the past and future ripping through her brain. She tries to calm them with trivial texts to no one and everyone. It’s now 24 hours till the full moon. All she can do is stair at it in hopes that someone hears her.
She lies next to him and in her mind she’s screaming, “you have a villainous superpower to make me feel like an invisible piece of shit!” But her heart screams, “touch me! Touch me just once more to prove that you know I’m still here!”
Nothing is said or done so she’s quiet again. In the silence she can hear his breathing. Where did it go? That feeling. That sense of importance. She hopes its buried in fear and worry only for the fact that if that’s the case, at least it’s still there. If it’s not buried then it might have never truly existed but only as a lie to keep her cold heart thawed a bit. Thawed enough to feel something.
This has all become some sort of blissful pain, a stabbing comfort. Maybe it’s not real. Maybe it never was. It doesn’t matter. Soon she’ll be away from this place and she’ll leave her heart on the last place she had it. Trampled by his shoes in the welcome mat of her life. She doesn’t need it anymore. Maybe she never did.
Just. One. More. Touch.