Heartbreak

Heartbreak. It’s something that almost all of us have felt at one point. It’s a sickening, horrid feeling, one that infects us and slowly demolishes our entire being.

I wish that I could say that I was strong enough to realize that heartbreak does not define me, that I have learned not to let it change my life and who I am. I wish with everything in me that these words were the truth. However, they are not.

I have had my heart stepped on a few times, just bent and bruised a little. It was painful, but I recovered like anyone would. However, I have only had my heart truly broken one time.

We’ll call her G. She was completely magical in my eyes. Sure, she was not perfect; no one truly is. She had faults and things that brought her down, but they didn’t change the vision of her that I had.

To me, she was an angel brought down from Heaven to grace my life with her presence. She was just like me and understood the way my mind worked. Her voice was music, and her face was art. Her eyes were fields of clover, and her smile was a sky full of stars.

I lost myself in her, and for some reason, I didn’t want to be found again. I was completely infatuated with her entire being, and she was the first person that I could truly see myself being with forever.

It was young love. It was stupid love. I was young. I was stupid. I let her corrupt me in the most beautiful way possible, and I let the bitter-sweetness of affection liven up my heart.

For the first few months, it was glorious. I could not imagine anything better, anything more pure and more lovely. For the first time, I felt as though I could fly, as if I could rise above the things that had chained me to this Earth for so many years.

Then, the horrors started.

Back then, I hadn’t realized that there were problems. I hadn’t realized that her words that once soothed my wounds were now making them deeper, stabbing into me like a sharp blade. I hadn’t realized that my every movement and word was driving both of us mad, sending us into a whirlpool of arguing and hatred.

I hadn’t realized that she didn’t love me anymore until it was over, until I was alone with my shattered soul.

Like I said before, I wish that this made me stronger, that this made me a better, smarter person. It didn’t. I am weak, and heartbreak made me even weaker. I no longer trust. I no longer love. I am too afraid.

Her, whose voice was the sound of birds, whose laughter was my favorite song. Her, whose face was the morning sunrise, whose smile was the feeling of waves on my fingertips. She has left me a broken soul, and though I have yet to learn to be stronger and happier, I hope to one day.

I hope that all of you reading this can rise up from the pain, from the betrayal, from the cruelty of this world. I hope that you are stronger than I am.