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Ultimate Newbie, a letter to myself about a break up

** Hey guys, this is a little something I wrote when I was going through a pretty intense break up. I was trying to figure out a way to explain what I was feeling to a friend of mine, but I just couldn't find the words. So, I did what I like to do when I'm feeling...well....anything. Write. It's just something simple and short. Which is exactly what it needed to be. I have a story I wrote about my autistic brother, but I'm hesitant to post here since I feel that I have less than a percent of some of the talent hanging out here. Anyway, I hope you find it enjoyable, comforting...whatever. Thanks.

Someone called into my heart and ordered all the blood to rush behind my face. Then, all at once, it tried to escape by any means necessary.
My blood.
Is trying.
To leave.
Try to comprehend that for one second. If you can just imagine the whole interior of every pain you’ve felt up to this point in your entire life, focusing in your face, and trying to make its way out into the world. It’s a continuous beating from within your skull. Behind your eyes. Through your face.
That’s what I’m feeling like right now.
They’ll tell you that you’re doing everything fine. Not to worry because you’re a good kid. You deserve better. It’s cliché even to say how cliché that sounds after you’ve heard it eighty seven times throughout your day. The thing is, you’ve seen people go through this. This very same feeling you’re trying to submerge has eaten away at your friends and family. People you don’t even know. People you will never know. They’ve all felt this very same way. And you wonder, because you must, how exactly they forced all their blood to stay inside.
Perhaps they bargained. Maybe they made a deal and said “if you just go back to where you need to be, and just leave my face, I’ll pretend everything is alright.” The blood, of course, would ponder this and decide whether or not this was an acceptable truce. If so, then maybe you’re one of the lucky ones whose blood has worn tired and bored of pounding at your brain. If not, my apologies as you endure this wretched feeling. Call me, because you’re not alone.
Whatever it is they did or do, I haven’t figured it out. All I want is for my blood to be happy where it is.