Forsaken

"Glassy eyes staring up at an unfeeling ceiling, a limp body under a heavy blanket, the pain of a reluctant return to a world he can't escape etched on his face; a picture he'd never want anyone to see."

I gazed nostalgically at pictures of her today. I don't know why the hell I do that to myself. I remember waking up one night feverishly whispering her name. I almost wish she would break down my door, kick me to the ground and scream "It's over, it's over, it's over, you stubborn fool!" I might get it then.

I'm glad for anything that takes my mind off her; coming here has done me good. There's so much I can do for others, for myself, for the Lord, for the world, when I'm not wasting time thinking of her.

Everything around me seems to beckon me to tear it up, throw it around; every beautiful thing reminds me of her and makes me want to scream. If there's anything I cannot afford to lose, it's my self-control. Thank God for bringing me here, thank God there are only occasional memories to deal with.

But I wonder, will she ever leave? Why did it turn out this way, Lord? I know you know best, but why her? Why did you give her to me and then take her away? Why Lord, are there lonely days and nights, no tears, only hidden pain; why can't I feel you the way I did before?

"Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani; why hast thou forsaken me?"