Loving you is like a battle, and we both end up with scars.”- L.H.
The woman who is hiding her pain from the world behind a smile.
The woman who was better to him, but worse to the ones who were better than him.
The woman who became everything she promised she wouldn’t become: sad and empty.
The woman who is just a memory to him, even though he is still her reality.
The woman who won’t let him go…
The breaking-up is the easy part. But no one tells you how to “get over it” and turn off your feelings. No one tells you that you can read thousands of books on “how to get over him”, but they don’t tell you the solution to not crying yourself to sleep at night. No one tells you what you’re supposed to say when people ask about him. The painful things during heartbreak…no one talks about them. Everyone is too busy talking about solutions instead of expressing how to get to that point.
See no one loves you more than me, and no one ever will.” -L.H.
Why is it that every single thing that bothered you about him are the things you miss the most? When did a soul tie become impossible to break even after the heartache? When did you notice that you relied on him so much mentally? Even after all the tears and the reminders that you deserve better…a part of you will not let him go. The man you molded. The man you made better and you’ll be damned if someone else gets to reap the benefits of your creation. There is an ounce of expectation inside of you he will wake up a new man and finally realize what’s in front of him. There is this unwritten law in your head that all of the pain is just the path to the rainbow. You tell yourself you might be suffering now, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. Things with him will turn around. You tell yourself God is just testing the relationship and you have to prove your loyalty. All of the confusion will be worth your tears…one day. Heartbreak is so tricky because everything I just wrote about…you tell yourself that it’s the truth. It’s scary to know a person breaking your heart can make you start questioning everything about you. God is not confusing. Love is not confusing.
The woman who loves the things that kill her. The woman who still loves a man who let go of her the minute he walked away. The woman who questions if she even deserved his reciprocity. You ask yourself how did you even get to this point? The point where he has so much power over you. The point where you don’t even want to fathom the idea of being with someone else. To the point if you doubt you will find someone like him, knowing you’ll also look for him in others.
And when I try to walk away, you hurt yourself to make me stay. “-L.H.
The woman who lost herself. The woman who walks away, but the past calls her back.
A call, text, or a random encounter can open up so many doors that you need to close. Memory lane is dangerous if you haven’t even left memory lane mentally in the first place. You have become accustomed to the empty feeling inside of you, and the only thing that can fill that void is what broke your heart. It’s ironic that you know what hurts you, but you choose it because you’re used to the pain. You are used to using it as a crutch and that’s why you haven’t moved on. The woman who doesn’t want to move on because she put her all into him. Now she has no energy for herself, or anyone else for that matter. Now she doesn’t know herself. Now she is looking for him in every other men even if its short-lived, through drunken and broken one-night stands, and men she know she will never love.
See, I know what we got to do. You let go, and I’ll let go too. ‘Cause no one hurts me more than you, and no one ever will.”- L.H.
She blames herself and wishes she can go back in time and change it. With time and self-love, she realizes she gave it her all and that’s all she could do. She accepts it. She accepts love will not always turn out how she wishes. But she also remembers this: she loved. She will pick herself up and leave him a memory. She will love again. And one day, he will be a vague memory to her.
If you are the woman I speak of, don’t be afraid to let go.
Allow yourself to heal.
Allow yourself to mend.
Until next time,