two

i see him.
more than i should.
in unexpected places.
and sure.
i know its my minds eye playing tricks on me, but that doesnt mean it makes my heart pound less or stop my breath from catching in my throat or the slight quiver in my hands as it slowly resonates into a tremble down into the core of what feels like my soul.

i don't wake up in a cold sweat anymore.
i don't have to triple lock the same doors anymore.
i don't look over my shoulder anymore.
i don't drive to the same places, taking various routes "just in case" anymore, and yet,
i see him.
more than i should.
in unexpected places.

so it goes.

i find myself so very tired. on the brink of emotional exhaustion, mental breakdown and physical angst trying to sift thru the tangled web gently discarded in the wasteland of me. just out of fingertip reach, black eyelashes resting against dampened cheeks while warm breath escapes puckered lined lips jostling the thick layers of dust, flashing painful memories to the surface, causing rifts, wave upon wave of wrenching anxiety. the proverbial protective person inside me, curls into a ball, clenched fists, arms wrapped around myself, seen only by my minds eye, as i stand completely still, frozen, watching the flashes swirl in quick succession, waiting, pleading, begging them to stop, if only for a moment.

every night. in those few moments before slumber over takes, when i'm at my weakest in all sense of the word, that is my personal witching hour. the time i hate the most. spinning in circles without ever moving. feeling miles away from the person next to me in bed, while he's close enough to touch. knowing this he is not that he. having to remind myself of that simple fact whenever i wake up startled and despising myself for it. knowing this he could never be that he.

nine years.
its not even a decade.
its the short and the long.
its all relative.

lately though, it's getting harder and harder to breathe.

so it goes.