And so a new day begins. I can’t be your Prince Charming anymore. It’s just not the way it was meant to be. Meant to be. I’ll just keep whispering that to your falling tears. I have a box of memories, I have a head full of unfinished dreams, and I have a heart full of hurt. It’s over now, and I can only tuck the box away in the attic. My head and heart, however, will have to ache. What else can you do? No aspirin will deaden this pain, only tears will carry the hurt away. And my stubborn eyes are dry, so dry. And the box, well you can’t just throw it away. It’s worth more than that. But my eyes can’t stand to see it, so stashing it away is the only answer. Flames would be an adequate end, a rather poetic farewell. But I couldn’t do that either. I watched you cry tonight, and I wanted to throw up. My jacket is stained with your tears, and I am proud to have leant my shoulder for you to cry on. Now everyone will ask why, and I won’t know what to tell them. If only they understood. If only they heard the ice crack.

My friends and I have had a long standing joke. We’ve applied the word “freedom” to the lack of a significant other in a man’s life. A dating relationship, of course, would mean an end to that freedom. We always got a great chuckle out of it, and if you’ve ever seen the movie Braveheart, it almost seems comical at the end. But tonight I find new and wretched meaning in it. At the end of the movie, William Wallace is tortured in a feeble attempt to force him to pay homage to the king of England. Wallace remains silent throughout the torture. In the end, they slice open his stomach, and you can imagine the pain involved. Finally, Wallace speaks. With every ounce of strength left in him, he shouts at the top of his lungs, “freedom.” He is then beheaded. I can tell you now that my guts are being twisted and spilled from my body, I open my mouth to speak. But it is not with triumph and victory that I speak, but with pain and agony I mutter the words that seem like vomit on my lips, “freedom.”

But somewhere ahead lies the hope. It’s not clear to me yet, but I do know it’s there.