by Violet Scott

Created on: November 14, 2008

A woman's heartbreak

We sleep every night on pillows saturated with tears, burying our faces into them, trying to absorb the fading aroma of his cologne.

We wear his tee shirt and wrap our arms around ourselves, trying to hang on to the memory of his embrace, wishing for just one more. We listen for the sound of his car pulling up, or the sound of the phone ringing, knowing that we are hoping for too much. We wait. We wait for him to realize his mistake, and come running back, full of sincerity, mad displays of love and affection, and promises of forever.

We keep waiting.

We wear sunglasses as often as possible, and stay away from the radio, lest those tears burst forth, unstoppable, and humiliating. We notice every car that resembles his, and see his face in every window. We watch for him to drive by, and when he does, we spill tears because he didn't even notice that we were smiling for him.

.We hand out fake smiles like candy and try not to break down in front of strangers seen holding hands at the store. We devote our attention to maintaining any semblance of sanity and calm, to keep the world from witnessing our descent into misery.

We dye our hair, we cut it, we get new tattoos, we buy new clothes and wear our makeup differently, and pretend that we are someone other than who we are, so that we can imagine that this pain we feel isnt ours, that it belongs to the other girl, the one we were before. We always try to look our best, despite red, swollen eyes, puffy cheeks, and smeared makeup. We have got to look good, just in case but we avoid wearing eye makeup, because it is messy and it runs, and it stains.

We battle questions of why?' in our mind, all the while trying to convince ourselves that it is for the best. We bargain. We ask ourselves what we could have possibly done different, or what we did wrong to drive him away. We beg for forgiveness from divine entities, promising changes in ourselves , promising devotion, promising anything, just as long as he can be made to love us again.

We pray that against all odds, he will come back.

Sometimes, we drink. A lot. And, then , sometimes, we call him, even though we know we shouldn't. Or, maybe we send him messages, even though we know better. Sometimes they are mean and spiteful, at other times they tender and forgiving, but they are always pathetic. We know that. So, sometimes we need a good friend to come over and trade us a bottle of wine for our phone, so that the possibility of contacting him disappears with

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