I tried to count my blessings, I knew it wouldn’t end well. I knew it wouldn’t last forever after. Yet, now as I sit in the ruins of my disaster and look out at another sunset alone, I find it impossible to let go of my pain. Staring out the window, raindrops cling to the glass like tears on my heart and I wonder, will I always feel this way? All the mornings I wake up looking for a sign that he still loves me, then I remember it doesn’t matter. I am tired, just so tired of hurting. My bones brittle, my heart cracked, and my soul is getting dusty. I wander a path of memories falling like leaves. I know the love we had was beautiful and they applauded us. Our quiet little life on the beach is now washed out to sea. Looking in the mirror, its the demons reflected in my eyes that remind me that when I bare my soul and open my heart, that is when I will be destroyed. Time and again, I’ve lived this hell of broken hearts and pain that would kill a lesser man. I do my best to hide the hurt, put on the happy face, ignoring the shadows of doubt that haunt me, but the truth of it is…People lie, people disappoint, people hurt, and people fuel the fire that keeps my demons alive. I suppose I will always feel this way…empty and estranged. I suppose, I always have.