"Little Girl" - lrh

37

A lot of things seem to feel like they come to an end very suddenly. There is never a true explanation, a given answer to satisfy the need to know. One day it all feels as if it is going perfect; you're riding the euphoric high that is seemingly endless. The next, it all crumbles down around your feet before your eyes; you're unable to comprehend how it ever came to this.

You don't ever really know when it's coming. The warning signs were so miniscule, if they were present at all. You look and look, saying nothing was ever there, only to have it flashing before you as if it were there all along. Trying to revive something that has been cold and buried is your last resort before breaking down completely.

You follow through the five stages of grief multiple times, avoiding acceptance for as long as you possibly can. It'd be easier to search for clues, answers, anything that will point you toward a cure.

Denial is the hardest part. You believe wholeheartedly that it all is a joke. Everything is a lie. We can return to the way it was, pretend nothing bad ever happened. Send your text like normal. Dial their number but wonder why they aren't answering. I mean, why wouldn't they? Nothing changed.

Denial lasts the longest. Your life changes before you, just as you finish blinking. They were there, then they aren't; it's all so quick. Your spot becomes a distant memory, a wasteland of "us". Your favorite restaurant becomes an ancient relic. Your song is nothing but words and chords that exist in an alternate universe where you are still happy. Your camera roll slowly dwindles as you recall memories you had forgotten because you just assumed new ones were going to continue being created.

That's when anger sets in. How could I let this happen? How could they do this to me? Wasn't I enough? Wasn't I ever enough? Wasn't the hard work, the trying, pining, compassion, and kindness enough? What more could anyone possibly ever want from me? I am but a person, giving all I have. It isn't much but it was never enough.

Anger drives people mad. Things are destroyed; glass broken, papers shredded, fire ignited amongst fabrics of clothes they left behind. The smallest of instances set you off as you are working through the whirlwind of emotions alone. Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

No, you think you can fix this. Bargaining, bartering, trading. I can be a better person, I'll change all that I am to fit their idea of me. That will bring this corpse back to life. I will sell my soul to Satan himself if it meant just a little more time. Enough time for me to see the signs and better prepare for what is to come.

Bargaining doesn't last very long, compared to denial. You start running out of options. Your ideas grow smaller and smaller. You have offered your soul for but a bit more time. Not a change of outcome, but an extension. Allowing yourself to get use to the idea of being alone. Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

You. Are. Alone.

Breakups happen everyday, but they don't happen quite like yours. Blinded by your own love that you never see what's before you. It was perfection, bliss, you basked in the glory of it all. Believing they felt the same way. How could our love be one-sided? Unrequited? Didn't you love me at all? Ever?

Depression sets in with a heaviness you weren't expecting. One day you are finalizing the plans to trade ownership of your soul to the devil; the next, you would rather just be dead. You've grown numb to the feeling of despair that clouds your headspace, unknowing that they are still hovering over you. You haven't left your bed unless necessary. You have been on auto-pilot for weeks on end because if you aren't, you'll crash into the ground. Laughter is forced. Smiles are fake.

You've seen the movies. You've read the books. You've watched the TV shows. It supposedly gets better. One day you'll come out of it. One day, you'll just be over it. However, you don't quite believe it.

This is where we circle back to denial. We run through the cycle for awhile, unwilling to reach the finish line. We aren't finished processing our emotions. We haven't thought of every possible solution. You haven't gotten to yell at them.

You never got your closure.

How can you accept it is over until you have let them hear every word you never got to say to them?

The realization that you won't ever get to causes the cycle to break. You're back at being angry; they'll never know you feel. You're suddenly depressed again; maybe the only way to really stop this hurt is suicide. Now you're at denial; even if you expressed your hurt, they'd never understand. Or care. How did we come back to being angry? What do you mean they'd not care about your pain?

Then: acceptance.

Turns out, you do wake up one day and you are over it. You made it out alive. They never gave your closure because they never respected you enough. And that's okay. They never really liked you that much, so they left. And that's okay. It's not that they don't care, they just didn't care enough. And that's okay.

You gave them everything you possibly could, and that is okay.

At the end of the day, you're going to fall in love all over again with someone else. And that is absolutely okay.

If it was truly meant to be, you will find each other once again. It might take some growing; some learning; some time and space. It might take a few more times falling in love, but you will come back when you are both ready.

And that is okay.

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