Last Serenade

Everyone talks about the agony of a heartache. The need to have a clear mind when you need it the most, to rationalise the outcome of the situation. You grasp at the thought when will this all end. When you will cease to carry out "suicidal" tendencies (like trying to smash your forehead on any flat plane available, or basically eat yourself to death.) and announciate the fact that it won't solve anything. When you clutch your heavy heart and moan for the pain to literally stop. (It hurts, really)

What can you do? Honestly.

You mope around your room, trying with every pan and scan to bligh the instances that flash before your mind at every single thing that has her written all over it, struggling to push it all away but somehow, you lack that courage to. You wish somebody was here to tell you what to do. You wish that somebody would be significant enough to make up your mind for you. You wish that somebody was her.

Then, you fall again. Knowing the possibilities almost equates to nought.

You told people that things happen for a reason. Never ask why it is what it is. Always move towards what is to be done from the moment the reason presents itself. It overshadows the possibility of having known that for a matter of fact, it was bound to happen.

Then the pain grips you. And you snap back into reality. And then you realise - she's never coming back.