I sealed away the pain in a box months ago. And with the pain, I tried to diminish the love, as if I believed they were tied together. As if my subconscious knew love and pain go hand and hand. If the pain must go away, then so be it: the love must. As will my memories of the past.
And I feel it again. But how? When I’ve shut it away forever? I feel the love…and I feel the pain. Both so separate and both so intermingled, it strangles me.
And I suppose, love and pain cannot be tangible possessions, easily hidden within my darkest corners. I suppose, they will always be with me, bitter winters that with all the blankets to be buried in, I could never escape the cold.
Here I am again, ready to tie the noose that strangled me before.