Love Lost

 The ground was cold when he took my virginity. It froze over when he stole my soul with kisses meant to ignite the senses, but eventually all they brought was pain because those lips whispered words of affirmation to many others besides me. The ground is now warm, but my ice covered heart has yet to defrost. I second guess everything now. I grasp for explanations I know I'll never get. I sink into his web of lies hoping I'll find value in one of the threads, but a single strand is not enough for a spider to catch flies with. I knew this, but let him find ways to catch me anyways. I'll tell you about the moment he first made me realize my pussy is not made of gold, and maybe then you will understand.

He was right by my side, but nowhere even close to me. He had his arms wrapped around another woman in a virtual world. He did not tell me he loved me. He did not kiss me goodnight. I held him tightly thinking I was grasping onto something real, but not being held back made me understand he was just as gone then as he is now. Many nights like this passed, and now I know for certain my touch doesn't unlock the secrets to the universe he wants and needs. My kisses don't demystify the love languages he claims to speak but won't ever fully understand. I am now trapped in a web with no spider, and no way out. Wouldn't it have been easier to just eat me alive? Instead, he decided to kill me the same way he caught me, slowly and softly.

I go to bars alone with thoughts of him and make fast friends with strangers, hoping someone will find the beauty in me he can no longer see. I fall asleep with tears in my eyes because I'm still broken, still fragile, still wavering, still unstable. I wake from dreams in which I'm left alone to die, knowing with a hardened heart that because of him I'm already halfway there.

Some of the last words he said to me were "maybe you should go for a run. That would help with the anger." I certainly don't need to run now because he's no longer chasing me. He didn't, doesn't, and will not ever care how far I go or if I ever even make it to the finish line, so why the fuck would I bother to run? Besides, I can't even move anywhere. His web is sticky, messy and freezing cold.

I try to remind myself he is only a spider, and spiders don't catch anything besides bugs. How, then, did I let him catch me? Why, then, am I so stuck? Call it emotional trauma, call it overwhelming anger, call it Bipolar disorder, call it typical psycho ex-girlfriend behavior. I wish I didn't care what he called it anymore... I just wish he would call me.