Writing the pain

I should never have done it. It should have stayed in the box where it belonged. I took it out and I allowed myself to hope for it, allowed myself to feel it, allowed myself to be consumed by it again. I never should have done it. I don't know why I thought it could be different that I wouldn't be disappointed or hurt but it happens every time and I always say never again. 

I guess I don't deserve it. I've pissed someone off way too many times and they took it away. I must not be able to take care of it or nurture it properly because every time I get bit in the ass. I need to put it back now, just an artifact to keep and look at through glass. 

It felt different this time, more intense, more familiar, more real. I guess that's what happens when it's been away for so long. I'm not strong enough to control it. So, it's better if it goes back to the box were only I can appreciate it from afar. 

Alone. Now and forever, it's a safer place to be.  Alone. It's a familiar place for me. Alone. No more wishing for we.