#39 A Letter to A Broken-hearted
It has been more than million words of pain and hurt to describe how broken I was when he left.
And that was never close to the pain I was suffering at that time. It was like, there was a gaping hole in my heart and I was sucked in.
Waking up was the hardest because all the reality seemed so bleak and void and life was just a series of constant suffering. You didn’t even want to wake up. You wished to die. You didn’t want to live in the world where there’s no him. You kept telling yourself that too should pass, and that time healed all wounds. But your pain wasn’t going any better. It was like, waiting for the pain to keep coming until you just get used to it.
Going to sleep was no less hard as well. You couldn’t just sleep without the tears fell down your cheeks. Remembering all your late night’s chats, or calls, how many good night kisses and hugs you shared and they were all gone in one moment. It felt like hell. So you cried yourself to sleep, or maybe not at all. Sometimes the tears stopped falling by itself, maybe the tears were even tired of you. And you didn’t feel any better.
Meeting friends was not an option. Because you would be too weak to talk it out. You were even confused on where to start to tell how the story ended.
Was it from the moment he stopped calling you “honey”?
Was it from the moment he stopped holding your hands?
Was it from the moment he didn’t pick up your call?
Was it from that moment he said he loved her and with that eyes begged you to go?
Or was it long before that?
Friends would try to cheer you up, of course. But forcing smile was making you even weaker you could not just smile and be fine, and then you would feel bad because you would ruin the party and disregarded their efforts. So you stopped meeting friends. Being alone was better. You could just daydream about how it could have been had he not gone. Or how you still missed him. Or how you would just want him back.
You shut the world down. You shut people down.
You pushed your friends away.
And you were just immersed with your suffering.
Because pain was the only reminder that it was real. That he was real.
I know, dear. I’ve been there. I’ve done it.
I’m not gonna tell you to stop whining or to stop suffering after your heartbreak.
I know that’s the only option you can see just about now.
How can you see others when every time your eyes close or opened, you’d only see him and him only.
Break up is never easy.
How can you talk about it when whispering his name with your lips could just break you to tears.
It is unbearable, I know.
But honey, as cliche as it is, you’ll replenish.
There will be someone making the same exact butterflies like he made to you years ago. Even better, he’s good in Math.
There will be someone whose smile and laugh are like a kid, the smile you like the most, just like his. Even better, he laughs at petty jokes you make, so easy to please.
There will be someone making his way into you, and make you believe again that it is okay to stay. It is okay to trust again. It is okay to be happy because of that stupid good morning text, or a sudden call in the busy hours, or a surprise gifts put in your locker while you’re not aware.
And at that time, you will not feel the pain again even when you said,
“He left me. He chose someone else over me. He said to me in the face he loved her.”
And at that time, you will just know you’ve been through a lot.
But the pain subsides, and you’ve learnt your lessons.
As cliche as it sounds, I swear to God, opening up your heart again will be worth it.
He wasn’t really forgotten, though.
But you would feel nothing towards him anymore.
Neither longing nor hating. Neither grudge nor forgiven.
He will be like an insignificant stranger that no longer takes up any space in your brain.
His chapter is closed. The story is finished.
You have survived.
