by Sammi Murphy
There are all these things wrong with me now; they were probably there before, but you made them harder to see or perhaps just easier to deal with, you blinded me in the happiest of ways; thanks. The list could really go on for a while, but here I'll name just a few: I spend money faster without you, I smile less and bitch more, driving in my car isn't nearly as fun as I thought it was with you in it, food is less appealing, I trip over myself and my words afraid of what I might say, I don't really appreciate things like breakfast, grass, or swing-sets; my hands are colder without you, my bed less soft, my phone less appealing, medication more interesting and addicting without you; my nails are shorter, my hair messier, my body dirtier, my clothes stingier; thoughts pour out of me like pathetic bits of dribble, uncontrollable and always desperate without you. I don't really care about other people like I cared about you, I like myself less and less the worse I treat people because they aren't you, I don't want to get to know anyone like I knew you and if I see anyone fucking touch you I swear I will go berserk. On the other hand, I guess I won't actually see you ever again, the most I'll have are remembrances of your voice, bits of your hand writing, old emails, the recorded message on my voicemail from ages ago, a thousand or more memories as I walk through my house or down the street, enter any restaurant or visit any store; every single song I hear will scream your name and every movie I watch will have "you" based theme sets. I can't help but be worse off without you because I can't imagine any way I am better now that you're gone; it might not have been that I did "better" things when I was with you, but you made my spirits soar and I was a much kinder person when you were around... I am worse off because I couldn't care less, I am worse off because all I wish for are clouds and rain, sunshine depresses me and if your name is mentioned I go all to pieces, I will never be the strong person I was with you and maybe that is a bad sign, maybe that means I've got this all wrong. A thousand "maybes" will not change that there are a million things wrong with me now that I didn't see before, you blinded me, you see, blinded me in the happiest of ways; thanks.
Sammi Murphy lives and works in Washington. She's trying her darndest to recover from this.