J

A few ends are brought about by mutual consensus. They happen because we want them to. But they don't sink in as fast, my system gets these hiccups, it suffocates at times, this abruptness of the end, the aftermath, I don't think I have adapted as well as I should have. Okay, enough!

The question is simple, on my face. Am I jealous? Of every other woman you now share even the tiniest of things with? I might deny it when I am totally in my senses. But right now I am not. Right now, I am just insane with jealousy. I avoid letting these instances from entering the proximity of my conscious. But sometimes it's just so hard. Mostly, it is tempting, you know. I can't help being human. I want to know about you. I want to know how much better you are doing than moi. I wonder if there is a new woman. And via a lot of unfortunate discoveries, with negative affirmations of all kinds, I end of with this bitter jealousy I can't help but write 'bout.

The wound is raw. I have not the slightest idea when it will heal. Or whether it will heal at all. We are all trying to move on. Sometimes moving on is the happily ever after. I have tried remedies and failed. I have tried to fill the void you left me with, with other people. But the feeling is like-dead. I have done nothing short of compelling myself. But the wound is still raw.

And so I write to myself, every night. In the dead of the night, I am ..engaged in an effort, to fill the void with words, and realizing that it doesn't work that way!