Ruminate

paper hearts

I thought I learned my lesson after being broken. Then again after being cheated on. I promised myself I would do my best not to hurt another individual the way I was hurt. I would never let them feel as unloved as I did in that moment.

So when I found someone new, I told myself not to hurt them. Not to hurt him how I was hurt. Not to hurt him how he was hurt before. I promised myself I would do my best not to hurt him.

It was so soon after being hurt myself, and I didn't want to hurt him because of it. I didn't want to use him, but I also didn't want to lose him.

I tried to tell him. Please, lets take thing slow. I don't want to make you feel like a rebound, or like I'm using you. And I didn't. He told me he knew I wasn't, so I let things continue.

He wasn't perfect, but he was good. He wasn't made for me, but he was determined to show me how willing he was to mold into shape. He had his flaws, but he seemed willing to try for me.

He was so strong, but so willing to show me his paper heart. He let me hold it in my hands, trusting me not to tear it. I could feel the edges fraying. I could see the glimmer of scotch tape holding it together. He had patched it up and kept in in his pocket, protecting it from a world of pointed edges and sharp turns.

As my world tumbled around me, he did his best to reach out his hand and teach me.

     "If you love someone, you should be willing to change a little", he said. And he was right.

     "Sometimes change is uncomfortable, but it is important", he said. And he was right.

     "Take care of yourself until you can't, that's where I should step in", he said. And he was right.

     "Words mean nothing. Actions are the only thing that matter," he said. And he was right.

So many wise lessons wrapped in his little paper heart.

And I did love him. I do love him. I should be willing to change. I should be able to try to take care of myself. I shouldn't be so reliant on others. That is an uncomfortable lesson to learn, but it's important. So I set out to do it. For him.

He would ask me to hold the promises that would help protect his little paper heart. Small changes that I should be willing to hold for him.

Do not try to fix me.
Do not offer me advice.
Do not leave me on read.

A pebble at a time.

Do not respond when I'm ranting.
Do not just be silent.
Do not push me to say what's wrong.
Do not expect me to just tell you.

A stone at a time.

Do not tell me about your anxiety.
Do not talk about your problems.
Do not have problems without telling me.
Do not ever be angry.
Do not apologize.
Do not be selfish.

A bolder at a time.

Do not make plans without telling me.
Do not expect me to make the plans with you, you're the busy one.
Do not disagree with me.
Do not just agree with me.
Do not say okay.
Do not say you don't know.
Do not be silent when I ask you a question.
Do not respond when I don't want a response.
Do not be too sensitive.
Do not NOT communicate.

His fragile paper heart was being buried in sharp rocks and heavy rocks. My weak arms shook under the weight, but one wrong move and I might puncture an edge or rip his paper heart in half..

I love him, I should be willing to change. I should be willing to try.
I love him, I should be willing to handle my changes on my own.
I love him, I should be able to juggle the rocks without damaging his delicate paper heart.
I love his paper heart. I want to continue holding it for him.

But with so many rules, I was terrified to slip.
But when I ask for help, I might just receive more rules.

But I had some rules I had set for my own paper heart that I wanted to show him.
But if I asked for work to be put toward my rules, I was being selfish, that's one of the rules. But if I asked for him to show me the actions that he told me meant so much more than words, I would be being sensitive, that's one of the rules.

I already knew he was trying, I saw the effort and appreciated it. But sometimes it didn't arrive when I needed it most.. but that is my fault, not his. I should have communicated, that's one of the rules. But if I tell him, he might think I'm taking things out on him.. that's one of the rules. But if I don't tell him, that's one of the rules. I must be stressing him out- I need to apologize, but that's one of the rules. My selfishness is making me angry, but that's one of the rules. I'm having problems without telling him, but that's one of the rules.

One of the rules. One of the rules. One of the rules. One of the rules.
Despite our mutual willingness to try, our paper hearts didn't seem compatible. My clumsy nature would surely make things end in disaster for his shaky paper heart.

Maybe I'm not capable of taking care of his heart right now. I tried so hard to improve myself enough to be able to, but I'm afraid of hurting him, I promised myself I wouldn't hurt him.

Maybe if I finish my schooling and get an adult job, I will have more time to learn how to juggle the pebbles and sand down the corners of the rocks. Maybe some day I will be strong enough to reshape my paper heart to fit the one in my hands.

Maybe he will understand.

I'm sure he will.

It seems like he does.

Of course he will.

He doesn't.

I feel used. I built you up at your worst, but you abandoned me at mine. I would have done anything for you and this is how you repay me.

Every fear I had in the beginning materialized into reality. I broke the most important rules.