The Hole in My Chest

It's like someone ripped a hole in your chest, and every time you breathe, it just gets bigger. You know that feeling when you're falling in a dream, that stomach-lurching freefall? It's like that, except you're not asleep, and you're not going to wake up. This is real. This is actually happening.

Everything looks the same, but it isn't. The world is still turning, people are still laughing, but it's all muffled, like you're underwater. You see couples holding hands, and it's like a punch to the gut. They have that. You had that. And now it's gone, vanished like smoke.

Remember all those songs you used to love? The ones that made you feel all warm and fuzzy? Now they just twist the knife. Every lyric is a reminder of what you've lost, a highlight reel of happy moments that are now tainted with sadness. You try to listen to something else, anything else, but it's like your brain is stuck on repeat, playing the soundtrack of your heartbreak over and over again.

Sleep is a battlefield. You're exhausted, bone-tired, but your mind won't shut up. It replays every conversation, every argument, every little thing you could have done differently. You toss and turn, desperate for a moment of peace, but sleep is a cruel mistress, offering only fleeting glimpses of oblivion before dragging you back to the reality of your pain.

Food? Yeah, not happening. Your stomach is in knots, and even the thought of eating makes you want to hurl. You know you should probably eat something, anything, but it feels pointless. What's the point of anything anymore?

And the tears… oh, the tears. They come in waves, tidal waves of sadness that threaten to drown you. You try to hold them back, you really do, but they just keep coming, hot and heavy, until your eyes are swollen and your throat is raw.

It's like a physical ache, this heartbreak. Your chest hurts, your head throbs, and your limbs feel heavy, like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You're not just sad, you're broken. Shattered. And you have no idea how to put yourself back together again. You don't even know if you want to.

You wonder if this pain will ever go away. Will you ever feel normal again? Will you ever be able to look at their picture without crying? Will you ever be able to listen to those songs without wanting to scream?

Right now, in this moment, it feels impossible. It feels like this pain will last forever. But somewhere, deep down, a tiny spark of hope flickers. You cling to it, this fragile ember, because it's all you have left. It has to get better, right? It just has to.