Spackled

Prose from SHS.

Photo by Aimee Vogelsang on Unsplash, edited by Slaidey Valheim.

I cried my eyes raw for a weekend,
drinking a bottle of gin each day,
but the sensation of losing him wasn’t painful;
it was just new and scary.

I was too tangled in a sense of grief
to let myself touch the excitement
brewing in the recesses of my newly unshackled heart.