The Ripped Soul

This heartache I feel is incredible.

I just finished my entire NEW fucking box of cigarettes, and the pain is still there.

It hurts so much, as much as a choked cry, as much as a steel knife in my windpipe, as much as a pipe in my lungs.

I can't speak, I can't even breathe.. and my heart just doesn't feel like it's beating right.

I loved how it raced whenever I saw her, be it when she stepped out of her car or when she was at the doorway of my motel room.

I loved how it raced as I watched her sleep next to me. I love how she made me feel butterflies when she wore her skirt and that spag top to Summit.

I freaking loved the moment when I sat next to her in bed, when I was fighting that box to open and she helped me open it up. Every touch of her fingertips back at the galleria, I loved it.

I loved the sound of her laugh, the way she looked when she smiled. I loved that competitive edge about her when we played air hockey.

I loved watching her dance in Abercrombie, I just wished I had the balls to hold her hands and dance with her, too.. instead of just grooving and moonwalking all over the place.

I miss you so much it actually hurts. Do you even miss me at all?