Then i found myself going back to the old habits.
everything went back to the way it was, except I felt emptier. Though a part of me came back and I missed the old me so much, I felt as though it wasn’t quite right anymore.
Like a chapter had been ripped out of a favorite old book.
For the longest time, I sat staring at the screen and mind numbingly passing post after post but felt nothing.
For I came back, but I lost my heart.
The breakup changed me, but it changed me for the better. I built strength in my character through the tears he made me shed. I grew wiser from the self loathing when we would fight until graveyard hours.
It’ll be a long while before I let someone in again, but I will over time. That’s the beauty of how resilient we can be when it comes to love. You’ll go back to the same routine you had with your life before you met him. Then one day, you’ll find another who’s heart beats the same rhythm. The one who’ll break down the walls and guarded heart.
I’m back where I’ve always been. And I missed the old me so much.
It’s the fantasy of what could be, that pushed you over the edge.
the almost lover that rendered perfect in your eyes,
the almost friend that you pictured holding hands with until the very hands weakened with time,
the almost man you thought could save you
So you hold on to a picture perfect image of what could be
and on that string dangled in front of you was a dream you struggled to face with reality
the invisible knot you twisted to connect him to you,
nothing but a silly imagination that drove you to insanity.
My heart’s never pounded so fast,
nor has it ever felt this empty.
My tongue’s never tasted so dry,
nor has it been so thirsty for another.
My head’s never been so tormented,
nor have I ever thought I’d be so happy with being so smitten.
This conundrum I have is both liberating and suffocating.
This is how I endure puppy love.
The silly moments where I am lost in lust
but found in love.
I’d lie to myself the same way I’d lie to my friends.
To make them feel better during their moments of suffering. I couldn’t assuage their grief, but I could inspire courage in them to move on…
Help them ease the pain clouding their every detrimental feelings.
So I lied to myself like I had lied to them-
“It will be better, you are strong enough to withstand this”
Even though I knew very well, it doesn’t get better. It will get worse. There will come a time where I will cry longer and harder than I have now, and that’s okay. Because I would rather be hurt, cry, and eventually move on, than live through anymore toxic days without a modicum of change.
..and I’ll keep lying to myself, till things actually get better.
The phrase, “Fake it till you make it” never felt truer.
It hurt so much it felt like all the air was vacuumed out of my lungs.
The slightest movement a struggle.
Tears poured like hurricane as my eyes lost vision during the drive home.
What a foreign concept when love slowly eludes us.
“Home is where the heart is” they said.
So, where is home now?
My stomach had a nervous pit.
My hands shaking with anxiety.
Head spinning with fear that it was all one-sided.
All at once, it hit me.
It was one-sided.
She’ll never love me the way I loved her. I never once walked out on her, but it was so easy for her to pack up her things and walk away.
My breath of fresh air had been contaminated with her greed for the allure of others. She wanted more, and that honest truth left me feeling worthless. I couldn’t give her what she wanted because she’ll always be chasing butterflies where the grass is greener.
I found this poem maybe 7 years ago and saved it on my computer. Sharing it to the world (:
So many thoughts,
I don’t know where to begin,
I’ll start from my heart,
and what I feel within.
I still have feelings,
which haven’t changed,
because when you left me
my life was re-arranged.
I used to cry
so many times a day,
but lately those tears
have been fading away.
I am hoping that
my brighter day soon will come,
and maybe, just maybe,
I’ll find that special someone.
Yes, it’s been hard,
but I’m getting back my life,
I’ve even managed
to put away the knife.
I will find someone
who’s right for me,
who loves me
and lets me be all I can be.
Yet the thought of you and her,
is tearing me apart,
because you will always have a special place
in my broken heart.
Do I still love you?
Yes, I do,
but another part of me
is getting over you.
I never thought I would say this,
but I simply have to confess,
with each and every day that goes by,
I love you less and less.
I just wanted to be with you,
but now you’re gone,
and the time has come
for me to move on.
You meant so much to me,
in fact, you still do,
from the bottom of my heart
What made it okay for you to tell me everyone is depressed when I finally confided in you that I’m terrified I could be?
What made you think it would be alright for you to just brush off my confession as though it didn’t mean anything?
I’m so spent of actually opening up my mind and feelings to others and having them not listen. They hear. They sigh and they respond. But they don’t listen. They don’t sympathize. They certainly do not understand.
I cry all alone in my apartment, and you ask me why I don’t reach out to you when I’m sad. You make me feel bad saying I could’ve called or texted you. But the truth is, I have. I’ve asked for help, I pleaded for you to listen, and you treated me like a child. You brushed off everything I told you and pretended I’ll be okay. You tell me everyone’s going through the same thing, but they’re not! They’re not constantly praying to be healthier in six months. They’re not begging to some unknown power to change their fate. So what’s the use of calling you now when I’m sad again?
Now when I cry, I curl up on the floor in this lonely living room. Then I remind myself, back touching the cold bleak wall, all I have is me.