Hope for the dead.

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Today feels harder to bear with more than any other day since April. I question the reason behind the constant memories running through my head. I lay awake all night, all morning just thinking about him. His smile, as if insults were never spat through his lips. His arms, as if he never laid a finger on me. His kisses; As if he never gave them to someone else.
I question my value and self love due to the feelings attached to the thought of him.
Still hoping to find the love I felt whenever he'd assure me that he'd never leave. I wonder through the possibilities of ever feeling that way towards someone else, when all my heart desires is for our reconciliation, his apology and regret showing I was indeed the love of his life.
I wonder how I'd feel then.
Knowing there were many in between.
I torment my fragile mind at this very moment not knowing Gods plan for him and I.
If there will ever be again...
I know better. At least I thought I did.

I push through the storm and hope... I hope for my full recovery. I hope I learned this time around.
Of course, now I have the scar, as a reminder of a beautiful lie.

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