Koniec. This is how it starts. This is how it sounds when an entire being collapses into itself, then explodes into a flurry of eternal mourning, complaints and the sound of teeth grinding that will drift in the air around you for eternity and will ring in your ears until you can't listen anymore.
This is how it feels.
I asked myself when I would start hating myself for this. Well, this is it. This is now. This is my sad determination, this is my quiet realisation, this is how it starts.
It's a quiet realisation, it's a gentle but firm grip on your arm guiding you out of the room, out onto the empty street that falls silent when the door closes behind you and the last sound you hear is the definitive click of the lock. That's it. Once you've done everything you ever swore you wouldn't do, nothing shows on the outside but your vision goes black and white and your body seals itself and everything shuts down, it's a defence mechanism. It's the feeling when he lets go of your hand and he's still standing there, smiling at you and you can see him and he is still there and you could pretend that nothing changed but you have a painful certainty that if you reach out to take his hand back he will put his hands in his pockets and smile at you again. He's still standing there but you can't feel him anymore. It's a long and sad goodbye, a dull pain all day that even manages to soak into your dreams at night.
Nad moim złamanym karkiem wisi krzyż, od wieków ciągle ta sama zapłata za miłość.
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