Monthly Archives: February 2014

crazy heartbreak rant

And you’re just walking home and the sky opens up and pours on you without warning drenching you in seconds, and instead of running to shelter as any sane person would do you stand there and suddenly realise the water pouring down your face isn’t from the rain but from the storm breaking inside of you.

But you have to not look like a crazy person so you run for shelter and hide under the eaves of a closed store shivering as the wind bites through your thin cotton shirt and you sit on your haunches and search your bag violently and desperately for your lighter, cause if you smoke you won’t cry…

but it isn’t there so now you’re just a haunch sitting, soaked crazy woman weeping on the side of the road water falling from the eaves in front of you like a waterfall like the waterfall you went to together and ran around naked in, a memory that should invoke a smile and naughty chuckle but instead sends a searing pain like a fiery dagger through your chest and your throat closes.

You berate yourself and suck it all back in because you mother is phoning to say she will rescue you from the rain……so you put on your brave face stand up tall. You get home soaked and dripping, you grab a towel and throw off your clothes, cause you don’t want to drip on the carpet, you grab dry clothes from the cupboard without looking and it’s his shirt you grab

his shirt, the one he left for you, it smells like him and you collapse to the floor silent tears of devastation seeping from you, but you stop yourself because things need to be done, you need to shower and feed the cats and do your laundry. So you do.

Then you sit back down and pour a glass of wine hoping for anger to overcome you, but instead you silently weep glass and cigarette in hand, admitting to yourself that of everything you survived, everything you have fought for has been for what you really wanted and what your really wanted was to spend life with him by your side, sliding down mudbanks and dancing in waterfalls and watching series and eating too much junk food and laughing at inhouse skyrim jokes.

What you really really wanted was to share your life with this person, this person who is the only person that knows who you really are. With this person, who despite the ups and downs is really the best friend you ever had. And because you don’t know what the fuck to do without them, you rant on a blog, hoping just a little bit that he maybe misses you too.

This person who was just supposed to go away for a year, not let you go on the first day he left you. He was just supposed to leave for a bit, not let you go forever.

And I still can’t find my fucking lighter, so I have to use the toaster. 



Goodbye Charlie Brown

Dear Charlie Brown


It was the best of times. A weekend that was perfect in it’s veil of pretence. To say goodbye ripped me apart, but I stayed whole, in my naivete believing that you’re on a great adventure and you’ll come home with stories to entertain me while I hold you tight.


You left me a shirt. I put it on my pillow so that for that split moment before I slept and before I awoke, you were there.


You left and flew away and I said goodbye, thinking that in time we would say hello.


I didn’t know you had already decided to let me go.


I didn’t know that it wasn’t real. I tried not to believe when you didn’t answer my love message, the second time I knew, but pretended not to. The third time I knew.


It is over.


I miss you and the part of me you took with you.


But I won’t cry because I should’ve known.

I wont cry because you only love me when you need me.

I wont cry because I cant feel anything.  

Invisible story

I don’t exist… those weren’t the words precisely

But the sword cut deep and clear,

“We have loved him always, you were never there”

My name it has no memory

It has never passed his lips

So they ask who I am to him, do I really exist.


I look at the walls of memory I have created out of love

I note that I’m barely included, well there are two moments of drunk bliss

The perfect little pictures of smiles and hugs and love

The hundred memory mentions, I am not part of this


I wanted to explain, defend my place and truth

But the evidence is clear, it’s a truth I can’t resist.

In every precious moment, something is amiss

The ugly truth is realised, if I’m not needed I’m not missed.

I am an invisible story.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2014

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