breakups
When it comes to breakups, pain is inevitable, but Humans thinks that suffering is optional.
I Had A Different Life Before...
I had a different life before. One in which I swam purposefully through the ether with the mate to my soul. We recognized our connection as source-- the light and love that others only dream of holding in the physical realm. We fancifully frolicked and literally wept for the rest of the world which couldn’t, or wouldn’t-- out of fear of work or by random exemptive turn of the wheel-- feel such deep knowing of the guiding secrets of the cosmos. We wanted to share all of us, our totality, with everyone. Friends commented on the manifestation of our relationship as tangible, that watching us say goodbye felt like the force of magnets being separated; strangers walked between us and stammered, “Whoa… what was that?” Our eyes would meet and my heart would explode with the validation of being seen, with the possibility that others could feel our love, and with the hope that this kind of love was infinite and could heal so many.
By Carolyn M Gage4 years ago in Humans
A Lonely Kind of Life
Billie stared at her keyboard blankly, tears threatening to fall from her face. Being stuck in the house with her family all day, every day has been very hard for her. She never had a good relationship with her parents even before the virus, but at least when she was able to go outside with friends, she could escape. Now, there was no escape for the distressed girl. Fights broke out in the house too often. Yelling and screaming, various objects being thrown around the house, sadness, and anxiety—this was her new world. She swears that if she got a penny for how often neighbors would come by, knocking on their door, only to complain about how they can’t go to sleep or their dog keeps barking because her parents were often way too loud for their own good, she would be out of the house, living in a gigantic estate and owning a luxurious yacht, away from her oh so stressful parents. “I wish I can leave and never come back!” her father’s voice echoed in her brain over and over again. This was something he said quite a lot. Then, he would leave the house, go on an hour of two hour drive just to get away from the family for a bit. When he would get back, he would sleep next to her mom, facing away from each other, trying very hard not to accidentally touch even the slighgest bit or talk to each other, even if if was just a small grunt of frustration. And him really abandoning them, like he said? She never knew if he meant it at all. She only knew that it hurt. “You know what happened? We fought again because of you two.” These were words that she had become accustomed to hearing. Her parents would often blow off steam after the fight by putting it all on Billie’s shoulders. It was her fault, always. She was a bad child, always. In a room with the whole family, her and her little sister would exchange words through eye contact, as their parents yelled for hours on end. This was their secret way of communicating, as their parents were never keen to listen to the two girls. It was as if her parents had forgotten that their young hearts could still feel. So, Billie always carried so much weight on her shoulders and never knew how to unload. Because of her situation, she was so often both physically and mentall tired. Taking plenty of naps through out the day, even maybe sleeping the day away, was only normal for her. What was worth waking up to anyway? Not that her mother would not come banging on her door to get out because she was “lazy”.
By Salem Rosé4 years ago in Humans
How to get over your Ex
So, they texted you last night: All is said and done...it's not you, I just need time to realise myself... They need time to realise their place in the world? Oh awesome, I thought they could do with a good spiritual trip to Nepal where they could climb Mt. Everest and realise the profundity and transient nature of life.
By Sophie Wakefield 4 years ago in Humans
Prisoners Pray Twice at Night
Tell me what you think of pink in the summer- the stink of wet lumber drying in the cold sun and crackling like its grains are trying to run south. My mouth is dry and my tongue has been scraped of the taste. I hate to think that any part of my life was a waste. You always hated when I told you stories of green monsters in late October. You always hoped your father would come home sober. Five Fridays a month he wished he'd had a son but, “what's done is done,” he always said. In his head he thought you were as good as dead. Red was your color then- anger, shame, embarrassment. Love- not even sometimes. Until I showed you how a sunrise can turn the sky tie-dyed and tired eyes see things differently.
By Michael L. Martin4 years ago in Humans
A RAVING LUNATIC
(Fragment: continued from last)... I know it’s been a long time and thus it may seem out of place to be on the receiving end of this. And yes, especially given all the years passed, I'm not really sure if you'll be interested in reading what I'm here attempting to express. But to be honest, given the relationship history we share I am finding it difficult not to include you (and the memories of our time together) in the process of self reflection I'm presently engaged in.
By Sergio Perez Lugo4 years ago in Humans
How to get over rejection
5 Steps to Getting Over Him Most of us can probably relate to the experience of loving someone who didn’t love us back. Women especially find it hard to move on from such experiences as we are constantly moved by our emotions. The good news is I have put together a few tricks that can help you overcome these emotions.
By Gracia Benita Kafunda4 years ago in Humans
Sea Crossing Confession
This time last year, I was sailing around Europe trying to live my best life. I was working again for a company called Yacht Week as a chef and hostess. I'd missed the season prior due to a devastating breakup with my ex-partner that I used to work with. I felt it would be an unhealthy decision to be in the same vicinity.
By Lauren Eimicke4 years ago in Humans
More Than Once
More Than Once He hit me. With his fists closed and my eyes open, he hit me. I sat there alone, crying out for help in inconspicuous little words typed letter by letter on my desktop computer. I entered a chatroom that evening. I entered the chatroom because I needed comforting words to occupy the silence. Fear can lack sound. I found someone to strike a conversation with. I described my feelings of detriment to this complete stranger. They were kind enough to stay with me. My husband [at the time] took our vehicle to go visit his mother. He was still in the process of getting his driver’s license renewed, so I was concerned about his whereabouts and his safety. I knew that if he were pulled over I would hear his voice on the other end of my phone, pleading for me to bail him out of jail. I also knew…I would have to hang up and call someone whom I’d be reluctant to share this humiliating news with, so they could give me a ride to the county detention center. Because if he were arrested while driving our car, our car would be towed and lost forever.
By L.S. Price4 years ago in Humans
