God, loving you hurt.
It was like a wildfire that raged through my soul. You threw me out like yesterday’s garbage and then brought me back inside... 38 times.
You would call or I would text. We were so weak for the feeling of skin pressing against skin.
Time 14 you said that this was really it. We had spent the last two nights on your living room floor and this was going to be the last. We fell asleep in each other’s arms and made breakfast at noon. You kissed me when I left for work and I remember thinking this was the end.
Three weeks later you called and that brought us to 22. I’d had enough. Three days later I broke down and asked you to drinks. That was 23. You must have known it’s my favorite number because you did everything right.
We battled back and forth the next few weeks. Bringing us to 37. I had met someone new and you got wasted on pills. The kind that turn your mind inside out and your eyes into fishbowls. Your friend called me because he knew I was the only person who would listen.
Three days later we sat on your bed, you clean and me painfully aware of my past 37 mistakes, and I promised this was where it would end. It wasn’t healthy.. and you said ‘just one more time’.
Thirty eight.
