|When things don't go the way you want them to, sometimes instead of feeling disappointment or heartache, you just become numb.|
It didn’t hurt me. Not “hurt”. Hurt is a four-letter word. It’s short, almost cute sounding. Aawwww, did that hurt? No. It didn’t hurt. Destroyed, Obliterated, Desecrated, Annihilated, Demolished, Shattered, or Demoralised maybe… But no. It didn’t hurt me.
It didn’t “hurt” me at all.
There is a reason I said I’d be happy alone.
It wasn't because I thought I would be happy alone.
It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart,
I might not make it.
It’s easier to be alone.
Because what if you learn that you need love?
And then you don’t have it.
What if you like it? And lean on it?
What if you shape your life around it?
And then it falls apart?
Can you even survive that kind of pain?
Losing love is like organ damage.
It’s like dying.
The only difference is, death ends.
It could go on forever ….
People think they know you.
They think they know how you’re handling a situation.
But the truth is, no one knows.
No one knows what happens after you leave them when you’re lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream.
They don’t know what’s going on inside your head the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt.
This isn’t their fault. They just don’t know.
And so they pretend and they say you’re doing great when you’re really not.
And this makes everyone feel better.
Everybody but you.
She doesn’t know how to leave behind the person that she was.
She doesn’t know how to forget everything that has gone before and moved forward with a clear heart and an optimistic mind.
She doesn’t know how to reset her brain and become the girl she was before.
Before the betrayal.
Before the emotional abuse.
Before the hope died in her eyes and was replaced by constant guardedness.
She wants to believe in the integrity of others.
She wants to open her heart and trust a person enough to allow them to step within and not make a mess.
But first, she needs to move on. And that’s isn’t so easy.
Sometimes, the only thing left to do is to let go. Certain things just aren’t worth fighting for anymore, and they are holding you back, tethering you down with their toxic presence. What will it take to make you remember the person that you were; that you still are? What will it take to bring the light back into your eyes, and eradicate the belief that you are never enough? You are enough. You have always been enough; you just lost your way somewhere between realisation and the thing you mistakenly believed was love. Remember who you are. Kick off the shackles that have been restraining you. Shake off those who you no longer need. Become the best version of yourself without the expectations ...
I had only ever
as a young girl
clutching at stars
in my head
and when you
asked me to
I jumped at
and left behind
my sanity as I
but it was
never going to be
enough for you
and I was right there
waiting for you
but you had
I guess I was
never quick enough
to keep up with
We can try, and we can try, and we can try. But sometimes, we just aren’t enough for some, and that’s okay. It shouldn’t be the end of the world, even though it feels like that in the moment. Life has a funny way of showing us exactly where we shouldn’t be, while subtly guiding us in the right direction. It may not feel like that at the time - it will rip and tear and break us apart, if we let it. But we always end up on our path eventually, and life will show us that, even though we aren’t enough for some, we are more than enough for ourselves, and for those who truly appreciate us.
Hate is a terrible thing. It's a wasteful, stupid emotion. You can hate someone with all your heart, but it'll never do them a bit of harm. The only person it hurts is you. You can spend your days hating, letting it eat away at you, and the person you hate will go on living just the same. So, what's the point?
She had always loved the rain. Real, torrential, rainforest-type rain that coursed from the skies in sheets, battering the ground and blurring the windows. She didn’t know why. Maybe it evoked the feeling of freedom within her, and the desire to be liberated of constraints. Nobody could control the rain. It came when it came, and it stopped when it felt like it, and nobody had a say in any of it.
Or maybe it was the way the rain fell with no apologies and no reservation. It made her feel like falling wasn’t something to be ashamed of; that sometimes it was necessary, and that she could bounce back whenever she was ready. Sometimes she couldn’t help but fall, and the rain would always fall s...
She is still learning.
Life is not easy and she is learning more by the day, although there is a long way to go.
She has yet to figure out how to prioritise her needs above everybody else’s, and this is why she requires so much time alone.
For people drain her. Like emotional vampires, they suck the vitality from her bones, failing to see the light as it dims in her eyes.
She can never give enough because they demand more and more, indulgent in their self-gratification, blinkered to her waning fervour. Until eventually, there is nothing left to give.
And it leaves her empty, with nothing to replenish her soul.
She is used to faking a smile and pretending that everything is fine.
She is used to being the strong one; the one who is there for everyone.
Rarely does she falter, there with a shoulder to cry on, ready with a sympathetic ear and the best of advice.
But who is there for her?
Who is there to listen to her problems?
Who is willing to hear the fears and insecurities that keep her awake at night, and help lay them to rest?
Who can be strong for the strong girl, and give her the chance to come undone, knowing that there is someone to catch her when she falls?
In the darkness of the darkest night, who is there for her?
But how can you tell if they are the real deal? When your heart is open and hopeful, how can you differentiate between earnest charm and subtle manipulation?
How are you supposed to recognise insincerity when they are adept at hiding their true intentions, and you are so desperate to believe?
Why are people like this these days?
You are a disposable commodity to someone who is dishonest and narcissistic, and you will only ever be of importance to them when you have something to offer. It is sad, but it is the truth.
It is amazing how little can be classed as abuse. Remember those things you felt uncomfortable with? The things you allowed to happen because you assumed it was normal. The silent treatment when you had unwittingly done something they disagreed with. The refusal to communicate with you clearly, and the way they denied what you knew was true. Their sadistic desire to keep you in the dark as an act of control. The acts that they deliberately carried out to make you feel unsure and insecure.
Abuse is not always physical. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.
You know why sadness is comfortable, because we don't wonder how long it will last while it's there. We just give into it. With happiness there's always time ticking at the background.
It didn’t make any sense.
The way they claimed to love you, yet treated you with such disdain.
The way they claimed to care about you, yet deceived you without a second thought.
They lied and they cheated and they betrayed you, yet they still had the audacity to claim it was love.
Love would never go arm-in-arm with such disrespect.
Love would never act so dishonestly and with such icy contempt.
If love feels like that, then it isn’t love.
Her world came to a standstill on that day as she stood, numb and bewildered, her hopes and dreams shattered at her feet. The ground could have opened up and swallowed her whole and she wouldn’t have minded. Her life could have blinked right out of existence and she would have welcomed it. For the essence had been ripped from her soul, and her heart lay in broken pieces in her ribcage. He was leaving, after everything he had promised. He had chosen someone else.
Love bewilders her. When she was young, she always believed it would be easy - meet someone, fall in love, be happy, the end. But she has fought more battles than seems fair. Whenever she offers out her heart, it is rejected, each and every time. She craves the unattainable, the emotionally unavailable, the cheats and the indifferent. Yet she strives to see the best in them, against her better judgement. She is the fixer, the healer, the carer. But not everybody wants to be fixed.
When a heart breaks a substance spills out like cement and pours through the bloodstream, hardening everything. In time, I know my heart will mend and the rock inside will crack and crumble away. But for now, I’m as solid as a column. And alone I stand.
Emotions confuse her at times when they aren’t overwhelming her.
One moment she can feel a rush of such tumultuous feeling that it takes her breath away and fills her with joy or deep sorrow.
And then there are other times when she is completely numb, impervious to everyone and everything, and nothing can touch her.
There is no in between.
It is all or nothing with her...
I thought I'll never feel LOVE,
and then you came.
I thought I'll never feel PAIN,
and you left.
How can you fix yourself when you aren’t even sure what’s broken?
She had always felt like the awkward one, out of place in a crowd, a loner destined to be alone.
Companions created doubts in her mind as she dissected conversations in the aftermath, analysing facial expressions, body languages, and tone of voice, and conjuring up a million worries and questions in her mind.
Trying to explain this only left her looking like the odd one out, a flawed and misunderstood creature who few could find common ground with.
IT WAS EASIER TO BE ALONE......