A broken heart of truthful feelings can never see the ugly in things
Your mind can always play games on you.
You can never be sure of what to expect, even from the people closest to your heart. You think you understand what the next step would be; you think you can read people very well, and the truth is, you can.
Whatever direction someone takes always makes sense in the end, and I am sure that your mind tells you the truth about everything from the moment you meet. It’s all there. Your heart wants it all the time; your heart is addicted to unexpected pain. And every time, it’s a new type of unpredicted pain. Your heart aches every time, every single time, and then you think to yourself, “But why? I’ve been there before?”
No, you haven’t, you never have, and you never will. No one will adapt to pain.
You know when you think you’ve built a strong wall? When you think no one is going to make you feel love again, there’s no way; it doesn’t exist.
Until this one person comes along — the one you never thought could exist or could see the light in you in the darkest of your days — and they lend out a helping hand filled with truth and love; you see it in their eyes; you see it all day, every day. It’s always there, no matter what you two are doing or where you two are. And you feel like no one is going to ever look at you this way, and you hope this never ends. But all of this scares you; it’s not the type of fear that would jeopardise what you have; it’s more like, “Please, let’s never stop; please never come to me with an excuse to leave.” That’s when it’s the scariest — when you feel life would be so empty without them, that you are suddenly not strong enough, and that wall you’ve built so high up doesn’t exist at all anymore. Shit!
It’s at that moment, when you put your guard down, that everything feels so exposed, so vulnerable, and so easy to break. All you want to say is, “Please don’t hurt me, I’m naked again!”, but instead you play the tough guy and say none of that; you look them right in the eye every day with a fragile message sugarcoated with silly humour and smiles, sometimes maybe the opposite, yet silently screaming, “I’m scared.”
When you love, you know it’s going to hurt, and you still yearn for it every single day. The eye contact, the touch, the smile, the morning coffee, the bedtime cuddles, the love making, the laughs before bedtime — you know all of those will lead to your doom, because what if they stop? What if they disappear without any warning? Then what?
Your mind starts telling you weird things about it, “This is too good; please no”, but you carry on because we strive to embrace our other half, and yes, we are all halves.
And then it all stops. Your biggest fear comes true, yet you can still see it in their eyes — the light of love — but the truth… it’s gone! Where did everything we agreed on go? I never asked you to love me forever, but we promised each other honesty no matter what. We based everything we had on that, and now, without prior notice, you take it all away. What I’ve been depending on all this time, the only bargain I took and thought I’d win, I lost.
And what hurts you the most is yourself. Why didn’t I see it coming? All those signs, that gut feeling of “I’m not safe here anymore”, why do we ignore those? We hang on to delusional hope. What are humans without it anyway? Nada — nothing; we barely exist without hope, and so we hang onto the idea of it, regardless of how false it may be.
When you love someone so deeply, you will never understand an ending; it doesn’t exist — the denial phase. Now you find yourself waiting for things to go back to “normal”, but where has this “normal” gone, and was it ever what it was?
A broken heart filled with truthful feelings can never see the ugly in things. That heart can feel the wound so deeply. Every moment of love it gave out has been so impactful that the absence of it is too harsh to bear.
All you wish to do is scream out, “Take it all back, fix all this, make everything be what it once was. What did you do!?”
And you get no answer because you never really scream that out; you keep it deep in your tormented heart, and that’s the only thread you hold onto: that this is all just a bad dream that will soon be over and everything will be back to where it was, where it was meant to be.
Do we ever know when to stop? Do we even know the meaning of “meant to be”? Do we trust the universe strongly enough?
And so we do it again — yearn for the heartache that takes ages to heal.
But do we ever know how to heal? Do we even have time?
We’re made to be loved, to give out emotions, and to lean on one another. Without that other half, do you even have a reason to do what you do every day anyway?
