Creative juices?

My … creativity juices have been flowing all day. Much like yesterday. I’ve noticed things that I’ve changed about myself. For instance, when I get really upset with anything really, I used to write poems. Now I simply go running or write about it … it’s a bit odd. By finding words and sentences that just flow, I feel I get my point across.
Well, it’s been a week today. I have come to reality with it all. I understand it’s going through, I figured that out a long time ago… like five minutes after we hung up the phone. Everyone said, “Oh don’t worry, it’s temporary. It’ll blow over.” I knew it would be different. Now it’s just the point of forgetting things. A song comes on and the words just scream your name. A movie is on tv and naturally, it’s one that I watched … or “watched” with you. Or someone who doesn’t know simply asks how you’re doing and I just look at them and say, “Ya know, I really couldn’t tell ya.”
The one thing that really gets me though is that there was nothing wrong. I was talking to someone the other day and they just kept saying, “I never noticed anything, I thought you were so happy with each other.” All I could say is, “Yep, me too.”
And it’s not like I can ever fully forget you. No matter what, whoever I date, I am going to have to explain to them who you are. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. I have to explain who you were to me and how I thought everything was okay, though it’s no excuse.
It hurts and I still don’t understand. But I never will.

And ps
Whether or not you continue to read these … since you read the first one and I never wanted you to … I do not know. But they aren’t written to be read by you. They’re written simply for me to spill my guts online to no one who really cares. And I can type faster than I can write and it’s guaranteed that my mother will never read these. Yes, they seem like they’re written to you because that’s the form I write them. I write them like I am literally talking to you, so I can have some sort of closure I guess if you can call it that. It keeps me from talking to you. To be honest, I don’t want you to read these. Any of them ‘cause you’re gone, you’re not supposed to have any idea what’s going on in my head. I don’t want you to either. But I continue to write and I understand I post them so that gives you every right to read, but it’s up to you to look. And it doesn’t matter if they hurt you anyway, you’re not coming back, what’s the difference.



I’ve moved on to bitter.

Is it obvious?