kbreinich

Chapters From My Life

I think the thing 

that terrifies me most. 

Is that one day, you'll be the story. 

 

The story that I'll tell my daughter,

when she's curled up in bed, 

wrapped in blankets

and heartbreak. 

 

She hasn't eaten anything in days,

except for the voice mails he left her. 

She hasn't slept in days either. 

Because the 'Goodbye" that broke her

shatters her bones all over again, 

every single time she closes her eyes. 

 

I'll climb into bed with her,

and she'll lay her head on my lap. 

 

I'll try to brush him

out of her hair.

While her tears 

soak through my shirt.

 

And I'll tell her. 

 

Tell her about the boy I met,

when I was only sixteen. 

He walked past me at our towns local fair. 

I fell in love with him two weeks later. 

 

I'll tell her about how we built a life together. 

A beautiful life. 

About how he saved me. 

 

About how he destroyed me. 

About how he left. 

 

I'll tell her how it hurt. 

It hurt so badly. 

My mother stayed with me for weeks.

She wouldn't go to work,

out of fear that I would take too many pills. 

 

I'll tell her about how I bled, 

from the inside out. 

 

And then I'll tell her 

about how it got better. 

How my mom went back to work. 

About how the bleeding eventually stopped. 

 

But I'll never tell her  

that sometimes I still have dreams

about you. 

And how I can barely breathe the next day. 

Or how I have pictures of you still hidden in the attic. 

 

At the end I'll remind her. 

Remind her that she's got to keep fighting. 

"You've worked so hard," I'll tell her. 

I'll leave her with the words 

my mother engraved into my brain. 

 

"Fight until you've found your way home again.

Fight until the sun comes back, 

and your heart learns to love

the mornings again. 

Don't ever stop fighting."

 

 



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