02/12/11 (2)

People think the nights are the worst,
and yes, they are terrible;
I can feel the absence of you in the space next to me,
and the deafening silence of you not breathing,
and the cold where your limbs should be wrapped around mine,
and I reach with my foot to find yours, but of course, it isn’t there.
But the worst, the absolute worst moment,
is just after that second where I wake up and the pain has been smoothed over in the relief of sleep; 
where dreams of reconciliation play out, or maybe no dreams at all,
where suddenly consciousness opens the doorway for realisation, which comes flying in at such a pace that it actually smacks me full on in the chest,
a huge wall of unrelenting misery, unbearable pain, aching loneliness, overwhelming longing, and unforgiving anguish, 
filling up my body, pulsing through my veins, weighing down my chest with the knowledge that I am left with a cavernous hole in my life, a gaping wound in my heart, and the screaming of every fibre of my being yearning for you.

22/11/12

3.39am and I’m too scared to sleep because the room is so deafeningly silent and my bed is so obviously empty on your side.

The warmth of your body and the steady inhale and exhale of your breath is missing and I lie alone at night, craving your presence and feeling the cavernous hole inside me that is fraught with misery, 
expand even farther with an explosion of unbearable pain, 
leaving me to ache, all night long, 
until sleep numbs me, 
just for me to wake up in the morning to find you gone again, 
and with that realisation, 
resume my suffering.