Distance had created scabs over feelings
and I wanted nothing more than to pick at the healing wound.
At a certain point
missing you felt like a knife digging into my flesh
it was not cute and dreamy like love songs
it stung and blistered,
it was an angry
pussy mess
of feelings
that wouldn’t stop flowing over
that wouldn’t stop drowning me in regret.
So
every day I’d throw myself a life raft and a med kit
I cared for myself in the only way I could—
with boundaries
I kept you out until I was strong enough to go back into myself and dig through the memories to make sense of things
I fed myself with food that tasted like sand until I was well enough to find flavor again
I shut out all the noise until I could once again hear my own needs above the waves of expectation
I cared for myself in the days when I didn’t think it mattered, knowing that one day I’d remember I did
it was not beautiful
glamourous
Instagramable
but it was real
it was the truth that lay behind the “I’m fines” that were said
until “I’m fine” became true again.
Caia Rose 