Those Nights I Can’t Stand

I don’t know what it is about nights like these that pull on my heartstring oh so hard. In the car on my way home, twelve or even one in the morning, staring at the streetlights as they pass, with the sound of horns in the background.

The ache in my belly is soft but painful. I feel the absolute terrifying intensity of my aloneness. It’s a feeling I pass off very often, but one I can’t seem to shake right now. It moves through me, like lava, heavy and burning all it passes. My mind wanders to all things I prefer to avoid, things I’ve done wrong, people I’ve hurt, people who’ve hurt me. I can forgive them, I already have, but the wounds they left seem to reopen now.

Everything seems so distant, I don’t feel like the body I’m in is mine. I feel lost. The world has lost it’s splendor, and my mind is swallowing what’s left of it. The sounds, the sights, the feelings, the touch, all of it, so meaningless, for that half an hour it takes to get home.

I hate nights like this, but as we pull into our parking spot and the engines turn off, when the world turns quiet, I want to go back.

Just so I can feel again.


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