My Silent Melodies ➵ [ my life 2015-16 ]

4/8/15 • Kept Quiet

On February 3rd, at approximately 10:37 pm, I had my heart broken. I had been in love with a boy my entire life, and his name is Colby. And we had been dating for 7 months, and despite our fights I was still crazy for him.

He gave me two choices.

I break up with him, or he break up with me.

I refused to choose. What girl in her right mind would pick heartbreak? And so, he said to me "I'm done for now. Maybe we can be a thing in a year or two..."

Except he kissed a friend of mine a week later. I was angry and I didn't speak to her for over a month. I made up with her recently and it's been one of many weights gone.

But now, two months later, I still cry to myself at night, sobbing and choking on air over him. I don't talk about it out loud, I'm afraid to say anything about it because I know I'll lose it. I can talk about him, but not about us.

I needed help, severe help. I cut myself and I hated myself for it. And I was only chided for my ways by everyone but one person who understood. I can't speak, and people have told me "just move on"

But you can't "just move on" from a feeling you've held consciously for eleven years of the fifteen you have breathed.

I cry now, remembering how he held my hand, kissed me, hugged me, made me laugh, made me mad, made me smile just by calling me beautiful and "Bunny".

I remember our last kiss clear as day. The feeling I had when it happened. It's a memory I'll keep to myself, one I'll never share with another person. Maybe it will preserve what I'll never have again for a little longer.

But the place where he hurt me, it's a place I've already been broken before. I don't heal there very well. If it all. I just put feeble bandages over a stab wound of great caliber. But I keep going, every day. I try to smile and laugh, and I enjoy being with my friends who love me. I'm so lucky to have them, I don't deserve any one of them.

The reason I'm saying all this is...despite the fact that I myself was hurting, I was able to keep writing for all of my beautiful readers. I was able to keep laughing and smiling with my friends. I was able to keep breathing when I wanted to die.

And even if no one else says it, I will.

I'm proud of myself, because I'm trying. And I'm living.