Howl in The First Life

I’ve definitely been here before.
Watching the road feed the horizon as I move forward, staring back.
People think of the capacity to feel as only being so much. Like the glass half empty-half full, thing. Feelings are more than empty and full, mine are flowing over the edges and carbonated. Leaving pockets of air to give space in places where there’s too much of one thing.
Every step I take towards happy, I am equally as sad.
Equally as longing.
Equally as frustrated.
Like I can’t be myself and feel good without feeling him.
Every moment I feel inspired and light, I feel a sadness creep over me. Like he left just yesterday. I have to remember, again, to move on. I have to tell myself this isn’t right.
I hate that I still hurt, and that he’s in love. I hate that it isn’t me. I hate that after all this time my heart retreats to him, while his is still distant and gone from me.
It makes me burn. Makes me want to scream and run and dig in the dirt and let it gather under my nails. Like I need to find somewhere new. Like there’s somewhere that I can go to lose him. Like letting my body do what my mind is telling it to will bring me temporary peace. Because my body cant fulfill what my soul is craving…and my voice cant carry the song my heart is singing. Smoldering, and anguished.
I feel like a fool becauae I let my intuitions lead me. These beyond-senses feelings that tell me to find him. Vibrations in the universe that have always spoken his name. I follow them thinking maybe this is the time. I extend an open hand, turn the porch light on, open the screen door, to see only the night and nothing else.
I sit on the step we sat on, and the night feels just like it did then. I howl at the moon alone. Hoping he can hear me.

Last updated August 18, 2017