pieces of yesterday

I have been running so far. So fast and so hard from anything that reminded me of you, the friends we shared…I haven’t called them in months. Maybe they understand
Maybe not. I find myself past caring, Rex, your high school best friend texted me two days ago. He wanted to know how I was. I could not tell him I had taken leave onthe pretext of looking after my pregnant sister who is in Hawaii as I write but life seemed to have slipped from my fingers and left me cold and empty.
I could not tell our good friends that I have been lying on the soft brown leather couch that we used to huddle in and play scrabble for the past two weeks now; drinking milkshakes and gorging up obscene lumps of chocolate and now and again when my willpower is gone, tots of whiskey and wine….
After the mad binge is over, I stare blankly at the TV screen and almost spontaneously the tears start to flow. I don’t sniff or wipe them out. They seem to be excess pain that could not settle within the broken cracks of my festering heart. A clammy cold heart,,, and the feeling flows like goo down to my numb feet.

I lie down again, belch and feel sick of the mingled cocktail of alcohol, chocolate and milk rising up my tight throat.

I wish I could cry
Bawl out like a baby
But
My breast is heavy and sick; empty of anything real and beautiful.
I am terribly aware of how hopeless I feel. Alone and trapped within a shell called pain. It feels strange; why can’t I seem to break out of it?
I am afraid my pastor will start to call or text. I have not been to church in a long while. Not since it happened.
I could not forget it. That awful day
And I blame myself.
‘I should have seen it coming…’
‘I shouldn’t have trusted him to…’
‘how could I be so stupid to believe…
‘why is this happening to me….’
‘when will the hurting stop….’
My bible lies atop a box of chocolates.
I vaguely hear common sense warn me to watch my weight, believe God for the best, all things happen for a reason and I will get broke soon.
I wish I could care… but I don’t.
Out of force of habit, I pick up that old familiar bible and for the first time in weeks , a part of me suddeny lungs forward for a strange feeling of comfort that spreads widely within the hollow of the deep wound
My mind mauls through some of the scriptures I can remember through the vague distorted haze in my mind. I can barely understand it.
I badly want to sleep.
Sleep until all this is over so I can wake up free from the numbness but a tiny part of me relishes that elusive moment. My emotions travel through the pain, feeling its intensity so hard it shocks me.
The emptiness within me bars me from saying anything flowerier than the truth I feel now;
‘I need you to love me now. Don’t ask me to try coz I am so helpless. I can’t even pray. I just want to be honest. I want the pain to go away’ and in this truest moment with my maker, I realize I have never been as real or spoken so real a prayer as this.Suddenly the cold exterior of my broken heart seems to tear open and a pool of pain