It happened.

I finally saw Mr. Wrong again and my heart felt as though it would burst into a million pieces. Two months have passed, my agony unsoftened by other joys in my life. Two months have passed and nothing has changed.

Last night, he looked at me with wanting in his eyes, a smile that lit me on fire. He looked at me and I could not hide. The strangeness of it pulling me from my tower, his way unthinking, callow, kind, full to the brim with everything. I made myself hold back. Looking out somewhere beyond. Hoping for respite, an explosion. Hoping it was all just a dream. But he could not let go, the discomfort too enchanting, he messed it up and I felt myself slowly losing control. Slowly letting him in. A brush, a caress, a goodbye that crushed me, spun me, left me hanging in the balance so angry. Angry at myself, at him, the world so full of pain, the emptyness that blankets my stupid, stupid self.

Today, I rage against my weaknesses so plain. Search within for something primal. A strength that I can make. A fight that I can win, that I know I will.