the always

I woke up this morning with questions. They took their turn in my head while I stumbled into the shower. Closing my eyes, I believed I was in that old shower. With the long bathtub and the great sunlight. Opened my eyes, and I'm in a standing room only corner of a shower. So many questions.
When did she stop loving me? Was it really that easy to do? Would she miss me if she didn't have a boy to occupy her time with? Would she still love me? Would she think about me? How did everything I have to give, at one time gold, become so worthless and unwanted? I started to cry, but pushed it away. It's still so sore, such a huge cluster-fuck of knots and unresolved memories, feelings, questions with answers that either didn't make sense, or caused great pain.
pain.
pain.
there's always the pain.

I got dressed. Filled with questions. Opened the container and pulled out a pill.
pain.
pain.
there's always the pain.

Swallowed the chemicals.

for this morning, at least, the pain will be ignored.