Broke Up Or Still Breaking - 3

It was a pale cold morning and I woke up to an annoying alarm shouting at the top of its lungs. 

4:30 

Saturday, 28 December 

December is cold and colder were my ice-kissed morning apprehensions.

Many of my friends have told me that I need to distract and dissociate myself from his delusional thoughts. 

It has been more than four years and I was still struggling with the distraction part.

Attraction came naturally though.

I wasn't feeling well: anxious, apathetic, aloof. 

I have tucked ghosts of the ghosting under my breasts and I wanted you to witness that - how ugly these can get on some mornings! 

On some days, I don't understand my own body - the hollow in my chest is full of frozen hyperboles of our past conversations but my back burns as if ice cubes are sliding down the back of my shirt. 

There is itching of my skin and I feel like shredding the top layers just to get rid of the feeling that you aren't here to comfort my irritated self.

On dark distressing nights, the half-written poems on your voice and the archived spoken word on your skin color blame me for holding them captive for two years. 

Few evenings feel like I won't survive through the night! 

I wish I were disillusioned with you: I'm running in circles between denial and acceptance - that you have turned down my Sunflower because you are searching for your Daffodil.

My head was in my hands and I was going through the breakdown again. 

I shook my head in despair and double-tapped the phone screen, unlocked it and checked the temperature once. 

10 degrees it said. 

I decided to stick to my initial plan of attending the office picnic. 

Before getting up from the bed, I wanted to clear all the notifications. 

One of these reads: 

Leicester City 0 - 4 Liverpool 

I smiled a broad smile and got up to get ready.