In a perfect world,
I would be peacefully asleep in bed, resting for church in the morning. I’d have the arms which I love most embracing me amourously. I would wake up with two sweet upward-turned curves at the corners of my lips, and I would dress in front of a mirror and know exactly who the person staring back at me was.
I would listen to Nature and all of her sounds from the comfort of my swing inside the shady, secluded alcove of my grandmother’s woods. And I would be accompanied by the whispers of sweet nothings, pouring into my ears like liquid charisma, from the seat next to mine.
I would take a long drive with a friend just to sing horribly and laugh at one another.
I would feel the droplets of freshly-fallen dew on my skin as we counted shooting stars from the soft depths of tall grasses.
I would hear the thunder of cascading water as he held me closely somewhere only we know.
The butterflies would still chase my breath away from my lungs and flow directly into my heart when he kissed me.
I would still have his soft hands to hold and to hold mine back.
I would still stir from an afternoon nap to the faint scent of his cologne lingering gingerly on my pillowcase.
I would love and be loved by the love of my life.
If only we still existed together, the universe would be the zenith of my happiest moments with him, blissfully trapped in a marvelously, timeless crystal sphere.
The World is far from flawless and has long since lost its’ illusory luster on my childish heart, and the love of my life is no more.
I would give anything just to catch a hint of his cologne.
My hands hold nothing but broken promises and empty dreams.
And the butterflies…
I choke on their burning wings as they desperately try to escape the incessant pyre in my chest.
The only thunder I hear is the magnified sound of the salty, cascading waters surging from my eyes,
Down my cheeks,
And fall in streams
From my chin.
I feel nothing but the despair that engulfs me like flares of the Sun.
I no longer venture out to the beautiful place in my grandmothers woods because I shred another, already weakened, muscle of my heart into oblivion, every time I wish I could feel his presence.. or hear him say all those lovely little things to me.
I drive around this town alone; in search of something that’s not there..
What I’m looking for is no longer attainable.
As I get dressed, mechanically, every morning and I look into the hard, glass reflection of myself, I do not recognize a single feature of the lifeless entity staring back at me.
She does not smile..
Nor does she wear a frown..
She looks like a little girl who’s recently been conveyed that
There are no such things as FairyTales..
Only beautiful lies to be told again and again.
I would give my last breath to have him holding me, ever so tighty in his arms, peering into the windows of my soul and knowing..
Knowing that this would last forever, He and I, and that I was the only thing he would ever want,
And he would never let go….
If I lived in a perfect world,
He would never have betrayed me,
And I wouldn’t have this irreparable, gaping hole in my heart..
I would be asleep,
Peacefully asleep in bed,
Resting for church in the morning.
I lay here at 3 o’clock, on a sleepless Sunday morning, in a raging river of tears,
That everything I ever wanted is
And that I am Alone.
A monologue written January 30th, 2010.