Confession of a Broken Heart

All those thoughts

What can I say... it hurts. It hurts to be on the other side. I was used to being the one pushing others away. The one who doesn't trust. Who rather cut things shortly to preserve myself.  I hated it, but I thought I rather see others suffering than have to suffer myself. I thought I might be happy one day. One day, a man would come, and sweep me off my feet. He would be here to heal me and help me forget. I would learn what Love means with him. What it means to be safe, to feel secure, protected. He would be caring, family-oriented, clever, funny, dorky, a bit of a nerd, creative, adventurous, a bit wild, a free spirit, eager to learn new things. And handsome.

I thought I had met that guy. He was my first love. But very quickly we were torn apart. I had to learn how to live without him. See him move on. I, however, did not. I met a few guys after him. Good ones. But I just couldn't forget him. I then thought that my chances had passed. That I was forever stuck with him in my mind. Incapable of falling in love again. I saw my friends getting into relationships. Finding their lovers. And I felt jealous of that. Why? Why can't I have this? Why should I suffer in silence, watching others be happy while I remain here, on the side, unloved, and oh so painfully wounded by my past? This past that kept coming back to the surface, rushing in to destroy me and eat me alive. I had made the connexion already. He did that to me, he decided to change my life forever to satisfy his own childish curiosity. Now everyone who touches me feels like an aggressor. And in a way they are. Because I had always sworn to myself that the person who would touch me next would be a person I chose. A person I trust, love and care for. But that would never happen since my chance for love had gone down the pandemic's drain.

So what was I to do? Sit in a corner, defeated, lonely for the rest of my life? My life that did not satisfy me in any way? My life that seemed to pass me by. My life that I contemplated putting an end to on so many occasions. Contemplated. That is the right word. I dreamed of it. Of the feeling of peace and quiet that would give me. Final solace. One last hurt to end them all. But I couldn't bring myself to it. To jump, to cut, to drown, to overdose. I couldn't bring myself to it. Cause that would destroy them. Them? HIM. That one little guy. Purest soul. My best friend. My safety net. So I kept going. For him. I would like to say that I did it for the others too, but no. I knew they would be sad, but they would accept it. Understand. Understand that I couldn't go on like this forever. That I would be by their side forever, but I'd rather be there as a thought of what I used to be and could have become than a burden of overgrown pain keeping them down. But one day, his strength left him. He went down so quickly. I couldn't do anything to protect him. I had done everything in my power to keep him safe and to provide him with unlimited love but it wasn't enough to keep him by my side. So I had to let go of him. Provide him one last time with everything he could have desired for. Hugs; kisses, smiles, the food he used to love, the warmth we use to share, a view he used to enjoy, the feeling of grass under his paws in his beloved garden. Then in a last hug, he spread his wings and left. I felt abandoned. Drained. The only person I had ever loved. dead. That's what he was and what I felt on the inside. He was such a great part of me that I'm positive I must have died with him that day. Monday. October 25th, 2021. 6pm.

I'm Feeling hollow. Completely alone. I thought about those ideas again. Why not do it this time? Sheer cowardice. I wanted it to be painless. Too much pain already. I was told to talk about it. To share my thoughts. But to whom? I couldn't trust anyone.

Parents? Half of them are too busy and smoldering my pain. The other half seems to be purely disgusted by my weakness and my life choices. Not good enough. Not the little girl they wanted. Pretty little girl, with eyes as clear as the heavenly skies, but a soul as dark and burned as hell.

Siblings? Too busy with their own life. Too proud to apologize for their actions, hoping I would somehow understand and accept that they were no longer the ones I grew up with. And... we don't talk about those things. You should learn how to live with it, and move on. Like we did.