Wading In

You’re killing me, little by little, every day, all the time, chipping away at who I am and who I want to be, eroding the foundation of my personality, my character, and my humanity. 

Every day, all the time, I sink.  I look at you, or I think about you living in my house, or I anticipate your presence in any capacity, and I drown.  The rocks are in my pockets, and I am wading out into the river every single time I think about you. 

Why, for the love of god, will you not go gently into the good night?  I have tried anger and patience and every other emotion I can manufacture, but you will not simply leave me to be in peace.   We are not a tie anymore; please, please, please go away from me.

You have systematically made me tired and sad and suicidal, and I have lost the ability to care about anything.  I don’t even care about myself anymore.  I drink too much,  I smoke too much, and I don’t exercise, because ALL of my mental energy goes toward just sustaining the ability to get through any given day, rather than trying to be the best person I can be. 

You have sapped every emotion I can possible entertain, and I sit here, today, apathetic towards everything, because I can’t get rid of the cancer that is you. 

It blooms and grows and consumes me.  I hate you, and my hatred fuels the cancer of my soul, which undoubtedly will fuel the ACTUAL cancer which will take over my weakened immune system and ravage and then kill me, because I I can’t fight it off anymore. 

You win.