I wrote this blog you'll soon read with no intention of ever posting it, but my heart has healed so much since I wrote this. I have realized that there is more to life than a dark tunnel of heartbreak and sadness. I believe that you guys, the readers of this blog, know me on a deeper level than most of my friends; therefore, you deserve to know the story behind my beating around the bush of letting go and moving on. It's happened to me personally. This post is enormous, so have patience. This blog was written months ago, by me, with a heavy, heavy heart. Here you go:
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I sit here, as I have numerous times before, on my floor. I sit here with a much too heavy heart. It seems as though life always finds a way to complicate itself a little bit more every time I decide to turn around. Whether it does so with a new school activity, new enemies, or past heartthrobs that elbow themselves rudely into my life without considering how inconvenient it is for me, life always has a new problem for me to face. This may be what high school is about, but I may be a little too indecisive for this. I miss the way everything was chosen for you in elementary school. I miss the way you thought you had problems, but really they were the simplest things to deal with. Looking back, I love the way we learned to ride a bike, lost our first tooth, made our first best friend, and had so many other firsts while we were so young. I’m sure I’m not the only one who cherishes those firsts. I remember my first boyfriend, and the story of how he broke up with me in P.E. I ran to the bathroom crying as he already acquired another girlfriend. I remember many of the first fights my friends and I had growing up. They were over the silliest things, like who borrowed whose Barbie dolls and forgot to give it back. I remember my first kiss ever. It was a kiss on the cheek at a friend’s party on Halloween night to a song I know all of the words to now, only because I’ve listened to it so many times since then. I treasure the memory of so many of these first-times. I’m sure I’m not the only one, though, who remembers bad first-times. I remember my first real heartbreak, and I remember the first time I lost a best friend. I remember the first time a family pet died. I remember so many of those first times, and I now have a rapid flashback of everything I’ve ever done as I type this. Many, many of these first-times will stay with me through the majority of my life. I’ll be able to tell my kids and grandkids of these first times because they are almost ironed in my brain from replaying inside of my mind so often.
Many of us, if not all, remember the first time they truly ‘loved’ another person. Maybe it was only ‘puppy love’, but to you, this person was perfect. You may get mad at them, not like them for a moment, or not want to see them, but there is ultimately nobody you would rather be with. Fights and breakups and “Maybe Later” have occurred, but this person is branded on your heart. But after a while, when enough is finally enough, you decide to call it off for good, which sends you into an internal depression. You have this weird, unexplainable concern for them as they go through hardships in their own life, even after they’d thrown your heart into what feels like a garbage disposal without thinking twice. It’s all you can do act like you aren’t listening when their name comes up in conversation. It feels impossible to not talk about them as you move on in hope of finding an equivalent to the way he made you feel. It takes every ounce of effort you have to forget the flawless way he spoke to you, or the way he almost purposely engraved his smile into you mind, so that was all you saw if you happened to close your eyes for the smallest second. It seems impossible, but you shove him and his memory behind a cement wall in your heart, which is as good as forgetting completely, and move on quite well. For the first time in a long while, you start to feel truly happy again. The other was able to carve his flawless smile into your heart, with nearly the same effect, and he’s all you can think about now. You two, as well, have been through hard times, but you care about him in a way that you haven’t felt about someone before, it seems like. But what you seem to forget is the ways you ‘loved’ the old one. The way you talked for hours upon hours about nothing seems to have vanished from your memory, along with the other wonderful traits. Sure, he may have been awful in the end, but it was amazing up until it all crashed. All of these things about the one before are great memories to lock away to ease any more pain than what was already caused when you went into a spiraling sadness after the breakup. It eases the memory of how you couldn’t eat, sleep, or really smile after he said the ending words. Compared to crying all the time because of the pain, smiling when you can experience new happiness with someone else is amazing. It’s amazing the way you forget about the way he actually used to exist inside of your world, and tell you how he ‘truly’ felt about you, even if he seemed to ignore you sometimes.
All of these hidden or locked away feelings are fabulous until the inevitable happens. They talk to you. They text you. This figment of your imagination actually broke free of the cement wall you hid him behind, hypothetically. They remind you that you were a very special chapter in their life, and apologize for the awful ways they treated you towards the end. And although you know that all of his apologies are used up and they aren’t worth a penny, you believe him. Not outwardly, but inside of your heart, you allow all of those memorized feelings and words that you once kept locked away all flood out onto your mind and they sink into the rest of your brain and now you doubt there’s any way to shove them behind that wall again. As he declares these things to you, cleverly mentioned just days before you have to spend three whole days together at a camp that your boyfriend decided not to go to, you freak out and your mind goes completely haywire. You can’t think about anything but why you’re wasting your time when you know that it’s not clever to talk to him. You ask yourself why you would put your marvelous relationship at risk to reignite a flame that should stay dormant. You know that you and the old ‘love’ have grown into entirely different people and that you two would never work. But that “what if” still swirls in your mind. You still catch yourself wondering “what would happen if he really were sorry” or “what if we really worked this time”. It’s almost as if exactly one half of your heart were telling you “It’ll work this time. Just see what happens. You only live once, and he’s adorable. He is really sorry. Just forgive him and give him one more chance. Third time is a charm.” Alternatively, the other exact half is screaming “Don’t listen! He is awful for you to be with! Why would you waste your time with that when you have Mr. Perfect sitting right in front of you? Why don’t you just tell him no? If your boyfriend found out that you even text him back, you know he’d be mad. Why would you put yourself through that depression again? You remember last December, don’t you?!” When these two exact halves are playing Tug-Of-War inside of your mind, you are bound to not sleep well. You are not going to have happy thoughts through this mental fight. You may collapse into the floor, crying, as if your knees were taken from you. You might even feel as if your heart is placed in a blender out of confusion of knowing what you want versus what you couldn’t stand to lose. It’s an amazingly hard line to walk. Even though you know what the right choice is, the obvious decision to stay where you are, you can’t help but consider the positive “what if’s” of the situation. The way it would be if you could talk on the phone for hours with him again, or if you could talk to his mother again the way you would when you were together. Or if you could recall the way he’s beautiful without feeling that pain in your chest that you have come to call a friend because of its frequent visits. But, like always, we forget the negative. There’s a reason you broke up. He sent you into a depression. You fought. He ignored you. He cancelled plans. He kept secrets. He knows he messed up though, and that’s what stays in your mind. He told you “you were such a great girlfriend, and I was so bad to you. I’m really sorry. I really am so sorry”, and that’s all that matters in your mind. You think of the prize, not the pain.
I never really believed that heartbreak really happened. I never thought that one could truly feel different after the loss of a person in their lives. I felt that way until I met this person. He changed me in a way I never imagined possible. I grew up during the time we were together, and I believe he helped me. He was my best friend, and he is beautiful. He has the power to do anything he wants in life, and can change his own life with only the use of willpower. My heart breaks for him like my heart has never broken before. I think about this person and look back on our time and short journey together. I look back at good and bad times, and I know that he was placed in my life for a reason. I know I’m smarter than to return to the heartache I have just emerged from, but a part of me doesn’t want to, or can’t, let go. I want to be able to remember our magic. I never want to forget the way we sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company. I won’t let myself forget the way he has affected my life, and if he’s somehow reading this in the unlikely event that I post this, I will feel so many more mixed feelings. Not only because the courage to post this evades me now, but because these are words, typed on a laptop holding my innermost secrets, which have never been shared. I hardly understand why I can’t get this boy off of my mind. I don’t understand the position I’m in to want one thing, but not want to lose another. These feelings are completely misunderstood, and mixed to the point of no return. I sit here, in the same position I was at the beginning of this mess of an entry- of- sorts, thinking and considering the way he feels about me. I wish I had the courage to say goodbye. I wish I had the nerve to call him a liar and pathetic and mean. I wish I could tell him that he isn’t sorry, and I can’t fall for those tricks; I know better. But I can’t because I know that I somehow need him in my life. Whether locked behind a cement wall in my mind, along with his memories, or right beside me facing life and high school, I need him. I need to know that he’s okay and that he thinks of me as often as I consider all of these things about him. I have to know that he remembers who I am, just like I remember him. I yearn to know he can recall stories about our time together as quickly as I can, and that he treasures them in the same way I do. "
Thank you so very much if you've read this far. You truly know me on a truly deeper level than most do, officially. I've healed so well since this writing that I had to share this with you. Time truly heals all wounds. Thank you so entirely much.
think about it :)
P.S. To pace myself, I'll now stick to wrtiting on Tuesdays. Only on Tuesdays. You readers are amazing; i love you.
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