I need some closure

Men.

From men.

men who have used me. abused me. left me. no goodbyes, no notes, no thanks and no farewells. just emptiness. the several billion little hurts of everyday. the several billions of tears i cried. can you stop me from looking back with anger? with revulsion?

how is it that they are now so happy without me?

how is it that i move forward, but keep sneaking peeks back?

they say time heals everything.

bullshit.

they lie. or are deluded. because it doesn't. the aches have died down. they don't mean anything any more. but their memories haunt me sometimes, even in my happiest moments, wondering why i was left behind like so much junk, why i was not good enough.

can you help me s---?

if only they had said goodbye.

I never particularly enjoyed school which, if you really think about, is not all that uncommon. Some of us are terrorized by our teachers, some by sports (maybe some is an understatement), some by math, and some by physics, chemistry, name any subject. Some of us by he students.

I was, I think, terrorized by it all. Even what I was good at—and this I know for sure, that I was good at some stuff. I was not created dumb. Our system, all right let’s not generalize, our teachers ‘dumbed’ me down.

It’s weird to think of sometimes, how in my angry and bitter tweens I would think of how it would have been if I could have landed just one punch. Kapow! Irreverent and insulting, it may be, I am very sure I cannot be the only one to have felt so.

And now? So many years have passed that it seems to have blurred. Imagine. Fourteen years of my life pass by like a fuzzy hung-over dream.

It’s very foggy outside. And cold too.