I wonder if my heart will ever slow down. I don’t mean that in a melodramatic lord-take-me-now-this-love-is-actually-killing-me kind of way. I just wonder if my pulse will ever feel normal again. Or will it always feel like I just railed a half gram of coke in two back-to-back lines? Since the day you left my heart has been beating so hard that sometimes it’s deafening. It’s more noticeable when I’m laying down, or wen I smoke a cigarette, or take two shots. Everyone says it’s just anxiety or adrenaline. I want that to go away. “Time heals all.” “Insert other cliche post break up quotes here.” But as much as it stresses me out knowing how badly you’ve fucked me up, for lack of a better word, it’s nice. My erratic heart beat is a reminder that the love I so suddenly lost is real. When I know you’ve slipped away from me and I begin to forget what it felt like having you sleep next to me every night for the past nine months, I just put my hand over my erratic heart and remember that this isn’t a product of my overactive imagination. You were real. This physical heartbreak is so very real.