I hurt too much to write too much. This stuff was over last Saturday. Then my broken but healing heart was picked back up, massaged, punched, thrown in the mud, cleaned off, given hope, and then thrown in a wood chipper.
My heart wants so badly to hope, but knows it can't handle another disappointment right now.
I told Liza that certain things would make getting over her much easier. That was so much bullshit. I hurt far more than I ever thought I could over you, Liza.
Physically - Zombified
Emotionally - Empty yet overflowing. I have nothing to give right now, I can only take.
Spiritually - When laying down to sleep, I dreaded waking up this morning, knowing the pain would be a sledgehammer waiting to hit me in the chest. But when consciousness did make its cruel return, I prayed for God's help.
