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Drafty Doors

Dani is a Christian, homemaker, and home chef who has survived an overdose, and is diagnosed with BPD, Bipolar, and Hypersomnia.

Sea of Tears

The cold swept through under my old, drafty door as it was emerging winter days. The feel of the cool draft almost matched my cold, aching heart; the warmth of her heart had disappeared. Wet tears left my eyes and streamed down my narrow face. As she slammed the door on her way out in a fury, I knew there was almost nothing that could be done. So, I meekly said 'goodbye'. I knew it wasn't forever but it'd be for some time before our emotions come back together in harmony. It was my fault though, I'm the one that let it slide to shit. I'm the one that slipped into an emotional coma where it was uncertain if I'd ever come back or rather, how long it would take for me to find myself again amongst the dark forest. Crying, I found myself doing most of the days now. In a sort of emotional distress that I can't seem to shake. I know the devil's claws were sunken into my delicate, pale flesh and I had to pry each talon from my shoulder one-by-one to regain my sense of self (a self that felt so far, far, away). It would be until late winter until I was myself agin and in the meantime, I've completely lost her. Our days are filled with anger and heat with a complete lack of emotional warmth. I was getting off uppers and yet, still find myself spiritually and emotionally empty and distanced from God. I know how to find Him, by prying the talons off my shoulder, but He seemed so far away from my grasp. I knew if I gave up, my relationship was surely lost, but I have no conception of how to repair my condition. So here I sit, writing, until my heart's content. Tears were dripping down onto my off-white paper and mixing with the ink turning the paper into one dark sea of tears.

© 2019 Dani Moore

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