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.