Imprisoned Mind

Do I still think about him? Oh, every day.
Every single day his memory attacks my brain, and if I don’t snap out of it, it’s like I’m falling in an endless pit swalloing me whole.
Sometimes when I’m driving, it just hits me and I start screaming from the top of my lungs to get it all out, if I don’t do so I just start sobbing uncontrollably.
I just keep remembering the good times, because that’s what we mostly had together, a good damn time.
Every heart break makes me lose a little faith for what could possibly be out there for me. I close the door on people, but most of all, I close the door on myself.
When will this be over? I don’t know…I don’t even know if I want it to be over.
I dream of him about every three weeks, dreams where I go looking after him wanting to stay with me. But he doesn’t, not even in my dreams he chooses me. He rejects me and it kills me.
The thing is that we didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. The last time I saw him, he was flipping me off with both hands walking the opposite way on puddle filled alley. The last words that I heard from him were “I can’t talk, they’ll throw me in jail” through the phone. We just stayed there for a minute listening to each others breaths.
But until this day, I wonder; Does he think of me the way I think of him? Does he remember me the way I remember him? Does he cherish the good times just like I do? Does he feel some kind of guilt? Some kind of remorse?
These are the questions that come to mind when I end up in that self-destructing turbine.
Then, forcefully, I think about the things that he did to me, the other girl, that last day, all of that just to make it go away.

Third and Last Strike Pt. 3

While the policeman was talking to me, the policewoman was speaking with my upstairs neighboor. After both of them left, I heard my door knock and it was him, which I’ve only said hi twice in all this time living here. He came in and asked me if I was okay, I couldn’t hold my tears or my words in, I immediately started telling him everything, I felt, I don’t know, safe with him…this sense of tranquility. He just stood there and really listened to me, apparently he is a counselor for children that have been through some kind of abuse in their life’s, he left around forty five minutes later. I finished packing, finished organizing everything in my car, came back, stood in the middle of the living room and gave that apartment one last look. All the memories that were made in that place were played before my eyes as I was swipping from left to right, and it ended when my face was facing the door. I locked the door, even though there wasn’t no use for it because the glass was cracked right open. I got in my car, called my ex-roomate and let her know that I was on my way. When I got to her place, her roomates welcomed me with a comfortable silence in their cozy living room, she cooked something quick for me and her roomate gave me an inflatable bed to sleep in. Before passing out, I contacted his sister that lives in Temecula and told her about the situation, and that she should be there for him, because his brother isn’t really the best shoulder to lean on. She wasn’t surprised by his actions, she actually accepted that he has anger issues, but didn’t think it would “happen” to me because of how I was a positive change in his life. She also told me that he didn’t deserve me, that it was the right desicion to make for me to leave him and get to a place safe, that he had to confront the consequences for his actions. All of this was talked through Facebook Messenger, which later on helped as evidence for my case to pass and him to be 100% guilty.

At 6 am, I woke my friend, and said goodbye..got in my car and started driving off. Off to the middle of the United States, my ass was heading towards Omaha, NE once again.

Third and Last Strike Pt.1

Couldn’t sleep that night, smoked some weed, didn’t help, so I finished unpacking for the second time all my belongings from the car. I felt good, being in my home felt great, cooked some breakfast for him for when he got off from work he would have some hot food on the table. Everything was painting for a good day, but he got home stressed from work. That was it, that’s what ticked him off, off on me…

He only took a couple of bites and sat in bed, his attitude was weird, he was acting kind of sketchy. We left the apartment and went to do some laundry at the laundry matt. He took my tablet and spent all the time inside of the car in the backseat chatting with who know’s who…Who am I lying to ? He was talking to that girl. He stepped out, finally, I approached him and asked him what was going on, then he said “We’re done”, I used stared at him with such disbelief and disappointment. Went inside, started grabbing my stuff and headed to the car fast. He was right behind me, trying to get into the car as fast as he could before I had a chance to lock the passenger door. As soon as he got inside he started banging the console and almost blew the air bag up. This was the first time I raised my voice at him, he called me a bitch and I said to him, very loudly “You think that this is me being a bitch? You’re wrong, but if you really want to see a bitch, hang on ’cause you’ll see one RIGHT NOW”. I drove to the apartment, went straight into the room and threw all of his clothes from the closet out to the living room. He then, again, said that he was going to stay at some buddie’s house and wouldn’t come back ’till the next day and that he hoped that I was gone by then. He prepared his overnight bag and went out for a walk. I coulnd’t take the frustration and anger, I had to talk to someone, so I called my ex-roomate and she came by. Half an hour later, he comes back, quietly, picks up the bag, and left without saying a word. I went into the kitchen and kind of opened the blinds, there he was, inside of a ridiculous orange car, that’s when I finally was able to put a face to the name. My world crashed, just kept walking back and forth in the living room, my friend didn’t know how to calm me down, she was also in disbelief.