Tuesday, April 08, 2014


The last time my heart broke I put myself in bed whenever I wasn't at work.  I cried into my pillow and hugged myself, feeling every inch of that sucker punch in every single cell.  It took me a good year of feeling like a zombie and started a spiral downwards that I never quite recovered from.  I never fully came back.  I told myself that I could never do that to myself again.

This time, before it happened I reminded myself of what it felt like.  I came to the conclusion that I was above all that now that I was older and wiser.

I'm not above it.

I didn't know that it could feel worse.  I didn't know I would be sobbing on the floor unable to get up.  I didn't know being ignored could feel so terrible.  I didn't know I could physically feel like someone was clawing at my heart and tearing it to shreds.  I didn't know that my words would never be able to encompass the depth of pain I feel.

I didn't know that just because it was unrequited that it would hurt even more.  I don't understand how.

It does.
It hurts like a motherfucker.

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