The only thing that inhabits my heart anymore is the all consuming black build up of hate and the narcissistic love for my own self. I've let everything that has ever mattered go. Love. Life. All of it seems as though I'm running through a high speed chase on foot in a lightning storm. My heart rages and breaks. My eyes are cold and pour ice. My veins course with all of the words that have ever been said to me that brought me to my knees. My brain pounds with ideas of what-if's and 'what could have beens'. It plagues me now to know things that I use to hope for daily could have been in my hands. I thought my hands were dirty. I thought that she was pretty and by she I mean every female you've ever glanced at. What if? I think. What if? I refuse to look at myself in the mirror because of shame. The shame that I can't decide if I'm responsible for or not. All I know is I feel as though I'm losing something that doesn't belong to me. I feel as if all of my emotions have combined into one massive auto response that I give to ever body. I never hear words, the drugs make sure of that. I never speak in sentences that make sense. I never think in sentences that make sense. Do I love him? Or do I love him? I feel like love is just an over rated word and even if it is what its cracked up to be do you have to only love one person at a time or is there a rule book somewhere I can read? It's so hard not to be a hypocrite when my views are so readily open when it comes to my passions yet I couldn't fathom the idea of my partner with another. The thought of it brings words that taste like bile rushing through my veins, up to my heart, pumped back into my blood and finally injected into my brain where it's sealed in tightly and is never forgotten. But I love him. The sway in his movement. Masculine. His eyes when he REALLY see's me. Sensual. His touch to my body. Intimate. Intimate in every way possible and glamorous in every way imaginable. He'll make you feel like your body is a temple that deserves to be worshipped. I don't know why he's not mine. So much time lost. I don't know why I'm not his. This was his final cost. Disappearing showed me where I need to be and the days of late have been making me take 2 steps back for my every 4 steps forward. It'll get me no where. I don't believe there are any rules in things like this and maybe I don't think there should be even if I really want their to be. But , to be honest, I think it would save a lot of heartbreak. It could have saved me from having some of my favorite songs ruined because they make me think about you. And I think that it would cut our life learning in half, which would screw us all. Maybe we just have to learn our lessons the hard way. But are they the right way?