It doesn’t hurt when it’s surrounded by constant smiles and loud laughter. No, it doesn’t show its ugly head and threaten to rip me apart.

It comes at night, the heartbreak comes at night. When it’s dark and no one is there to notice the awkward silence, I slip into whenever my thoughts rear back to her.

It used to come during the day too, when I was around people, but I’ve mastered the art of shuffling it back to the disgusting black and weak place it belongs.

The days grow shorter and the nights draw longer. I manage to chase away the ghost of her, that haunts my thoughts every night, when the lights shut off.

But it always comes back, and I grow tired of always pushing it away and I let it seep deep into my pores and roam my body and feelings the way it wants. 

It’s funny because it used to be the other way around, her love used to seep into my pores whenever she touched me and I’d grow warm and feel full. Now, the hate I harbor for what she did to me, and the love I have for her, runs through my blood like a poison that eats away at me softly and slowly.

Is it weird that sometimes I pick up her calls when she rings me, and I tell her that I miss her too? Is it crazy that I smile when she tries to make me laugh? Am I weak for feeling complete, whenever she says she’ll always love me?

Weak, I know how fickle my heart is. It wants what it wants, and no matter how much I try to pull away from that, I can’t. I try, please hear me out, I try. I try with all my might, I do things that people may deem “crazy” but I assure you, I am not.

Hate her. I hate the memory of her. There’s one fact I cannot run away from, I won’t say I will always love her, I’m not Dolly Parton, but I will say, I love her still. I loved her back then, and I still love her now.

Until I’ve learnt to chase away her ghost forever and for good, I refuse to fall inlove again. Let me just protect my soul, the only way I know how.