Because Being Broken Is Easy

i

It's been six thousand three hundred and fifteen days since I have been here and only approximate three hundred days in my entire life I spent with him. He's always busy. He says he has work to do.


ii

It's been nine hundred and eighty-two days since everything started falling apart.


iii

Six hundred and fifty-seven days since I lasted talked to you. You said it was over and walked away without a reason.  I watched as you walked with such grace, out of my life.


iv

Five hundred and seventy-five days, seven hours, twenty-three minutes and seven seconds since he broke my heart again; make that forty-seconds. I saw him smiling at her. I should be happy for him, right? But why do I feel a pang of jealousy every time I see them? Five hundred and seventy-five days, seven hours, twenty-four minutes and fifty-one seconds and it still hurts. Fifty-seven seconds.


V

Two hundred and ninety-three days when she stopped talking to me. I loved her like a sister but she left too. People always leave, right?


vi

Only about two hundred and fifty days have I been actually happy. They say happiness comes from acceptance of your life, no matter how it is. Being broken is easy, happiness takes courage, maybe that's why the days are so less. I'm a coward


vii

For sixteen hours and twenty-five minutes, I have had tears in my eyes and a lump in the throat but I refused to cry because I don't want to feel weak.


viii

Four hours and eleven minutes ago, I called daddy again. He was too busy to listen to me and hung up on me.


ix

fifty-two minutes and thirteen seconds have passed and I've been trying to scribble down my thoughts but failing.