As One

It was a cloudy day on November, 28.

That day changed my life for the worse.

Someone took something from me that day, a piece of my heart and my soul. I became the person I was scared about – I’m not able to forgive anymore.

I never considered myself a great person, I was an ordinary girl, I was okay, there was a thing I loved about me tho: the way I was able to love hard and forgive people – until a while ago I was able to forgive someone even if I still had the knife in my back, isn’t that crazy?

I was able to forgive someone while they were still hurting me.

Maybe it’s stupid, but maybe it’s special, because when someone hurts us, human beings usually want to hurt back – eye for an eye. That’s what they say.

Can you imagine being so naive to forget the bad and let the good come in?

I was like that, if I loved you, anything could take me away from you.

But I’m not that person anymore.

For an entire month, I lived 24/7 with someone, knowing that something belonged only to me, me and another person. And then someone took everything from me.

I don’t know how I was able to be the person who forgives even if the wound still hurts – it’s like I was living in a fairytale and someone woke me up brutally, without caring about the consequences. Stupid people. Stupid people who think they can make decisions for others and pretend everything is okay, what’s in their minds?

I’m living underwater. I can’t breathe. My lungs are working, don’t get me wrong, they work in the right way most of the times (unless when they lose the rhythm and they don’t let enough air come in – that’s a panic attack, by the way), but I’m not breathing.

I don’t want to be dramatic, but in case you never lost anything really important in your life (and I’m not talking about the stupid boy/girl you think you love. You’ll forget that person. I’m talking about a real loss), I want to explain you how it is: you don’t see the sun in the same way, you can not wake up and smile, you wish you could but your mind and body and heart don’t feel happiness anymore, you cannot stay with yourself more than two minutes or your mind will play with you, you paint a smile on your face and if you are good enough everyone will believe you are doing okay – I think I deserve an Oscar for the role I’m playing.

Everything is totally black. No white or grey.

I’m 21, I had projects and I wanted to realize them, but now I wake up in the morning waiting for someone to realize em for me – it will pass, I’m sure it will, in a way or another, but not as fast as everyone thinks.

On November 28, 2017, on a cloudy day, I lost my potato chip.

I shouldn’t talk about that, because: “no one has to figure it out” – that’s what they said, but I don’t care.

I was afraid, completely scared and alone. I’ve been stupid.

When I start talking about losing her, I said to everyone clearly I didn’t want to do that. I remember saying to my mom, “I already cannot look myself in the mirror. I make myself sick.” And I said to my ex boyfriend, “I don’t want to do that. You need to be there that day and force me.” IT WAS CLEAR. NO LIES. NO WORD GAMES. I said exactly what I wanted to say and none could misunderstood. But people can pretend not to listen. People can hear what they wanna hear – they can delete all the parts that are not good for what they want and just listen to the ones that are okay for them.

I asked for help. Clearly, again.

I said to all the people involved in the situation that if I did that without being sure, it was like killing myself. Maybe that wasn’t a physical suicide, but it has been a mental suicide – isn’t that worse? A living body with a dead mind?

It took me a week to take off my pj’s and put jeans on, two weeks to put makeup on my face again and talk to my parents, three weeks to take a picture of myself and then it took me four days to look at it and five seconds to delete it from my phone. After almost two months I still don’t look myself in the mirror. I mean, I do. I do look at my face when I put makeup on or when I style my hair – but I never look myself in the eyes as I used to, I haven’t looked at my reflection in store’s windows since that day, even if it was something I used to do since I was little.

After that day, when I was lonely in an cold, hospital room, while all the people who decided for me were living their pathetic lives like nothing happened, I cannot forgive. I can pretend, but I don’t forgive. And this made me kinda miserable and sad.

I did what I did because I wasn’t able to survive by myself. That happened because I trusted the wrong people.

Everyone tells me I will forget this. I’m young, I have a life ahead of me, I will forget. Everytime someone tells me that, I wonder if those people actually know me.

I’m the kind of person who hate forgetting things, I don’t like to forget names or faces or conversations. I hate when I forget birthdays or what I ate the night before or people's voice, I remember myself going crazy when I thought I forgot my grandpa’s voice. So, why do people think I want to forget? How can I forget? The nausea, the tears, the happiness when I heard her heartbeat, the pain. I don’t want to forget.

I may can forgive my parents or mcdreamy for being like they’ve been with me, but I will never forgive how easily they forgot about her.

“We shared my body

our hearts used to beat as one

you were my soul

and I won’t love anyone the same way I’ve loved you.

I won’t forgive

I won’t forget

unless you’ll give me the strength.

I love you,

Mommy.”