Into the pain

Into the pain- H/D
It tears into you, doesn't it, the constant hunger for what know can never be yours. For what you know you can't have, what will eventually destroy you? All the things your mind tells you to stay away from, but your heart and body just can't accept as gone. When there is a constant war of the senses, part of you so desperate to regain what you lost, and the other constantly rejoicing in your newfound freedom.

When every breath you take stings because you can't smell him around you? Does it make you crazy that every time you shut your eyes, all you see is silver behind your eyelids? When all you want to do is punch him and beat him and hurt him for making you feel like this, but can't get yourself to do it because every time he bleeds, you bleed more.

When there is so much anger boiling inside you that it's all you can do to keep from falling apart, but when you do break, the only person you want around is the one that caused it all in the first place?

Why is it, that every time you want to be alone, anything more than the first five minutes ends up being pure torture, because, when left to their own devices, every nerve in your body just screams for him till you're bleeding from a million holes in your core, and nothing can stop the pain?

How is it, that every time you look at him, or utter a single word, you feel the need to explain yourself? The same explanations, falling on deaf ears, make you hate yourself just a little bit more each day, make you cringe every time you look at the stranger in the mirror, make you wonder how you became every thing that you never wanted to be?

When was the last time that you managed to make it through a single night alone in your bed where you didn't want him? A night when you didn't turn over and grope blindly across the unnaturally cold sheets for that familiar warmth? When you woke from a dream of him and you that was so vivid that you scream yourself hoarse only to wake and find your hand where his should have been? When you buried your nose as far as it could go into his pillow, hoping to catch a whiff of his smell, till the lack of oxygen made you dizzy?

Does it still bother you, when you seek out his cold gray eyes across a crowded room and they refuse to acknowledge your existence? When you scour every word, every insult exchanged for traces of the passion that used to lie beneath every word that left his lips?

Do you look as far into his eyes as you can, as if to sink into his soul, drowning, drowning, gasping for air as you fall deeper into the blackness?

Does every flippant remark he makes, every sneer, every look that commands the acknowledgement of how much more he is than everyone else make you reel with nausea? Does every smell, every bit of food you eat, every night sky bring back vivid memories of your time together, lounging on the bed fresh with the scent of sex, laughing silently over a shared joke, watching each other from under shuttered eyelids, pretending the other didn't exist for any purpose other than to serve as a minor irritation- only to prove the opposite behind closed doors? Does every shape, every colour you see remind you of the perfect lines of his chest, the silver in his eyes, the curve of his thigh, the perfect pink of his tongue as it flowed over your body? Does it make you ache?

Where do you think he goes now? Do you think he honors the memory of what you shared? Or do you think he flaunts it about, a trophy of what he conquered and then threw away, lying in a broken, bleeding pile of bones and dust?

Is there any part of you left to salvage? When you spot a shy smile from the corner of a room, do you see his face behind it? Does it take you back the early days when everything was young and fresh and exciting? Do you remember how, when you caught a flash of white teeth from under perfect lips from across the Great Hall, your body would tingle, and you couldn't stop grinning for hours? Does it make you want to cry every time because your insides are so smashed up that you can't even imagine the possibility of making a fresh start with another? Does the risk of having your guts ripped out through your stomach make you want to retch every time imagine the possibility of giving someone that much power over you again?

Does he make you question every new feeling you have, to see whether it's yours, or something that the memory of him forced you to experience? Was the momentary ecstasy you felt worth the helplessness you feel now? Was He worth it?

But then you hear his delicious baritone laugh in the distance, rich like melted chocolate flowing over you, you feel a familiar shiver run down your spine, a familiar smile force it's way across your lips and remember- yes, he was.