I might regret this post
It’s 4am and my eyes hurt. They are red and itchy from a long day of contact lenses and also because it’s one of those nights of crying again. Was just reading Shiberty’s blog and her latest posts are so relatable:
“It hurts inexplicably to love someone so much that you lose yourself in the process, forgetting that you’re special too.”
“It broke my heart to have to push him away and pretend like I didn’t care for him anymore. I’m the one who wanted this, so I have to grit my teeth and go through with it, right? I have to admit, some days it feels like it might be easier to just forget about everything that happened and get back together.”
“But I have to remind myself, that I gave it all up because it became too painful to hold onto. Too many things were said and done, that I will never forget.”
“I gave fucking everything I had. I have nothing left to give, and perhaps for this reason alone I shouldn’t let myself be ridden with guilt, blaming myself for walking away. No matter what other people say or think, I loved you with every cell in my body.”
I care so damn much. Too much. Would have thrown myself under the bus for him.
I saw this Facebook post today and honestly I was so tempted to listen to it; stop pretending not to care, screw my pride and tell him how I truly feel. But I don’t think I have the strength to go through everything all over again. It’s just a vicious cycle waiting to repeat itself, isn’t it? It wouldn’t have changed a thing.
It’s not that I am unhappy with my life. I know that I have a lot of good things going for me in life and so much to look forward to. My family (never mentioned anything to them before but I’m not sure if they can tell) and friends do so much and go out of their way just so that I am happy. And I don’t want to be ungrateful.
But beneath all that happiness, the good days and positivity is sadness and emptiness that is always lurking on the inside. He has left me with a void that only he can fill.
I’m not faking being happy. The good parts of my life are real, but so are these negative emotions. I just don’t broadcast them. Firstly because it’s social media where people only show the best of their lives. You’ll never be able detect any hint of unhappiness on my Facebook or Instagram, where all I seem to post are photos of me living it up with good food and leading a jet-setting lifestyle.
Secondly, because no one really understands anyway plus it feels like enough time has passed such that people expect you to have moved on ages ago. Also because I don’t trust myself to talk about it without crying in front of anyone.
Honestly it’s not that I want to keep harping on the same unhappy thing non-stop either. I must seem so pathetic. Never thought I would be one of those girls whose lives would revolve around a guy. I was living my life fine until he changed everything. But if he was just a guy, why does it hurt so much?
He was so different. The reckless, passionate, exciting, dangerous and all-consuming love that they speak of? It’s real. Maybe it doesn’t come by often, but it exists. I had it with him. I never knew I was capable of feeling that level of happiness… nor did I think it was possible to be in so much pain. Still, everything else pales in comparison when you know that you have been that happy. Could have been so happy.
And honestly I’m so terrified of never feeling that way again. So scared that I’ll never feel the same way about anyone ever again. To have experienced love like that… anything else will feel like I’m settling. But if it’s going to be so painful, then maybe it’s a good thing not to go through it all over again.
“I felt it… once. Doesn’t mean I’ll feel it again.”
— ten word story (@tenwordspoem) August 18, 2015
Tags: The Great Depression
This entry was posted on Thursday, October 29th, 2015 at 4:40 am and is filed under Others. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.