Broken: Difficult night, emotional day.

I can cry at the drop of a hat today. (I have, already.) The last few days have been wearing on me, and I can only describe it as "bleeding love." An instance where I only hurt so much because I love so much, if that makes sense.

Today is April 5th again. Crappy, crappy April 5th. Even though I admonished it last year, it still came back again, and I hate it for that. I've had to voice the date a few times for inane reasons (zoo pass registration, etc.), and even just saying it makes me feel ill. I feel trapped in that split-second where an elevator passes the floor it needs to stop on by just a bit, only to drop, weightlessly, to the correct door.

Last night, I couldn't sleep, and Philip was already beyond gone (he'd gotten up at 4am for work, too). Every time he moved, every time he breathed differently, I'd turn and look at his beautiful face. And then I'd squeeze my eyes so tightly shut, and I'd hold my breath, and I would fiercely try not to cry. And, just when I thought the moment had passed and I'd open my eyes once again, the tears would slip, and they would trace down my cheeks and into my pillow.

I honestly don't think, no matter how many may pass, that there will ever be one year where this date doesn't wound me, and wound me so deeply. To put the heartache into words is impossible, and I can't seem to irrigate the wound. The "mental movies" of his actions that attack me surrounding this date are stronger even than my real memories of our "first time" together - that is the power I have unwittingly given to them.

I wish I could look back on our love and see it for how pure it was. I wish I could look at it now and see it for the amazing growth it has accomplished. I wish I could ever think of it only as wholesome and true.

Instead, I feel that no matter how good things are, how good they might become... well, it will always be tainted with hurt.