I feel the pain in my whole body. I feel my stomach flipping and turning in distress. My heart aches with rage and emotional exhaustion. My lungs filled to the brim with phlegm from sucking up all the snot from the runny nose I got crying myself an ocean of loss. I feel myself sinking into it- drowning. Why did you do this to me? I begin to question everything I did to see if I could find some great falter where you decided I was unworthy of your faithfulness.

I think of who you kissed before our last date. I see you holding her, like you held me. I see you kiss her in lustful ways that crack my skin and tear up my heart. I only wanted you. I only wanted you. You once kissed the cracks I call stretch marks on this shell I call my skin and you showed me that I was worthy of love but only until you would decide I wasn't anymore. So please, tell me, was she worth it? What did she give to you that fulfilled your longing soul that I could not provide? Did she love you at the same magnitude as I did? Was she better? Was she prettier than me? To you, of course she was.

She was more worthy. She gave you what I couldn't, and what I wouldn't. She was more. I was not enough. I begin to think back on every staggered text and wonder if you were with her in between texting me "I love you"s. I close my eyes and I see you with her, on her, in her, doing things we swore we'd do on our wedding day. In faithfulness I promised so much of my life and my soul to you and you gave me cheap tacos, heartaches, puffy eyes, and a whole lot of trash to throw out. With exhausted, lifeless, red eyes I cry my heart out for the love we once shared until my tear ducts run dry.

In the shower I try to scrub my skin raw of any and every cell you've ever caressed or kissed. I scream under the sound of the running water to release the demons you left within me. I peel off the skin on my lips until they bleed just to scrape off every layer that you've kissed with your lips that were kissing another. I toss out every picture of you in my possession, and I delete the ones that never made it to physical copies. I cut my hair so every strand you've ever complimented or complained about is gone. I set fire to my bed sheets in hopes they don't haunt me with the scent of your cologne. I rip off the carpet and tear up the floorboards so nothing in this home was ever touched by your feet.

I wish I could unmeet you.

I wish I could unintroduce you to my family. I wish I could cut every trace of you embedded into my memory and forget that I ever wanted you. I wish I could stop thinking about the times that you were so loving and kind just so I wouldn't think about how much I miss them now. I wish I had known our time was running out. I wasn't ready for it to be over. I wasn't ready for that last “I love you”. I would've said it again, just one last time. I wasn't ready for you to stop loving me. I wasn't ready for my bones to feel like they had been shattered. I wasn't ready for the feeling like I was drowning. I wasn't ready for it to be over. I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready.

I throw out empty gift cards, prom proposals, the sea shells we collected on our day at the beach, and sell the dress I wore to our prom online. I get rid of every trace of you I own, so why can I still feel you? Why can I still feel the way my skin grew goose bumps when you kissed me? Why can I still recall that first kiss in that photo booth and the fireworks that went off within me? And why do I still feel like you're mine?

Why do I feel like I'm waiting for Barry Allen to zoom in and tell me messed up the damn timeline again and this isn't suppose to happen? Why does my heart feel like it sinking into my gut and why does my stomach ache with sadness? Why am I so chained to my bed all day that I’ve left an imprint? Why wasn't I enough? Why didn't you love me and why couldn't you love me right? Why did you do this to me? I only wanted you. I only wanted you.