Johnny Grass

20 Jul

Johnny lay back on the grass.
The air was humid, his singlet stuck to the small of his back.
The view of the stars was blocked by the tall wild heads. They swayed and danced in the breeze, not settling on any god damn angle.
In his mind he’d been here before, alone, pondering thoughts and actions from the past.
The past happened over and over. Over and over it ran through his mind.
He swore he was going crazy.
Three damn weeks he’d been feeling like this and that was after the torn, worn out saga of painful jaggered communication.
He hated her. He hated himself for loving her.
He was falling out of love with her.
A little of what they shared died inside of him each day. It fell like ash onto his soul. He was sick of the torment, of feeling guilty, of feeling something for her that she didn’t share, that she didn’t return.
Time apart – initially while he was away, and then while she took leave.
Different paths they had taken far away from one another.
All her words of kindness lingered on like a bad smell in a lift.
How dare she do this to him, how dare she do this?
Cut contact 100%. Cut contact 100%.

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