Denial

I won't admit it to myself, really. I just try to distract my mind from ever thinking of him. Drowning myself by beating around the bush as I sink deeper and deeper into my music and writing.
But I know...
I know...

I know it's a waste.
I'm a piece of the past.
An insane piece at that.
I'm the joke, the laughter, the punchline.
And God, does it hurt.
And if that's true, why do I feel like I don't deserve him? Why do I still dream of him? Why do I see recent pictures of him, and just dwell in it? I feel crazy doing that...
But something is different about his face..
That sounds so cliche, but it's true.
His eyes used to look like the clouds after a storm, when they're still a deep grey, but the dark rainy blue of the ocean still reflects on them. And you can see the stars, just a faint shine behind the clouds. I could'velived in them forever... They even looked like waves as his emotions changed. A little faster when he was angry or excited, slow and calm when he was happy, and just still when he was sad.
Now when I see his eyes...
All I see is still waves.
Is it a trick of the camera?
A false hope?
Or are they just plain to me now that we're...not "we" anymore.

I remember when those eyes cried. I didn't see it. But I heard it on the phone.

I just wanted it to be over.. so I told him that. I couldn't take the life I lead anymore. Secrecy, control from my dad...
"I can look around the room," I said softly in the phone,"AndI can see a thousand ways that I can just...end it."
And he burst.
That memory is so dominant in my mind...
"Don't ever say that." he was sobbing,"Don;tyou ever...even THINK..about hurting yourself..alright? You are the only person I have ever truely loved. I love you. Okay? I don't know what I'd do without you. I love you..so much.."

Was it a lie so he didn't have to life with the guiltormemory of my death while he cared?
Now he laughs about my scars.My cuts.
So I hear....
I wouldn't know...
He never speaks to me.
I don't blame him.

He broke me in half.
Does he care?
Not at all.
That's what really breaks me....

So what am I to do?
Wallow? And burn? And dwell?
No.
I deny it.
I try to deny that it ever happened.
It's better...it's safer...
And it only haunts me in my nightmares.