chichiguita's Journal

"When you're dreamin' with a broken heart--wakin' up is the hardest part"

All night long, I woke up with this terrible heaving sorrow that jolted me from sleep.  I lay in the dark and told myself to breath.  I whispered the same clumbsy prayers, "please Lord Jesus, help me." 

I rolled over and saw him sleeping with his mouth open and his throaty snore.  I longed to touch him.  But there is between us a great divide that cannot be crossed.  Not even in our "marriage bed". 

I few short weeks ago, we were on that bed--having some of the most honest, intense sex we had ever had.   I understand now--that it was goodbye sex. 

I have to go to work today and play pretend for the world. 

I will spend the day fighting the desire to crawl under my desk and weep like a baby.  I have  a meeting today with the "big boss" who is a huge jerk.  He is also boss to BOTH of us--since we work at the same university.  I see him everyday--since we are living together--somehow it is way more humiliating to see him in the work environment. 

My "paper-cut soul" is raw and fevered today.  Everything that brushes against it brings pain.  I want to curl into myself and try to protect--but if I do--I may never uncurl again.  I may stay there until I am a hardened, immovable, soul-less rock. 

weary

despondent

lost

This is how I feel when I wake up.  It is a wonder I get out of bed at all.  but I do.  Everyday.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part

You roll out of bed and down on your knees
and for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here
Is she standing in my room?

No, she's not
cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part