Yearning

What is worse than your absence?
Only the gaps I’m closing in my head explaining your silence.
For weeks I’ve been going on with life,
Missing your voice, face, scent, our conversations,
While feeling dead inside.

I’m jumping from one scenario to another:
One time, you admit you actually didn’t like me anymore 
(just like I was dreading all along),
Maybe it was something I did and you were too scared of confrontation.
In another figment of my imagination, 
You apologize saying you know what you did was wrong.
In the last scenario, I get retaliation,
or more likely peace of mind, when you ask me to take you back.
Because I can’t stop missing you.

Yearning for you has become my shadow,
Lingering over me when I’m forcing myself to eat, sleep, speak,
Making me all kinds of weak,
Tying me to my bed,
I’m replaying everything that was said
Between the two of us.
Yearning for you has become the elephant in the room,
Taking up all the space,
While the emptiness inside me is swallowing me up.
Remaining question: Did I do too much too soon?

Your letter under my pillow,
Burned itself through the fabric,
Burned itself through my heart,
Into my head.
I was carrying it around for weeks,
Staring at your handwriting again and again.
One excuse after another.
You’re excused.
But I was in love with you and I’ll never understand.

© Elena Natroshvili