“My heart might be bruised, but it will recover and become capable of seeing beauty of life once more. It has happened before; it will happen again, I'm sure. When someone leaves, it's because someone else is about to arrive--I'll find love again.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Zahir
He broke me but I’m thankful for that. No sarcasm, bitterness or whatsoever. I stooped and pick up my broken pieces, all on my own, without needing any help from anyone. I am stronger than I used to be. I chose to be stronger and that’s because of him.
These past few days I feel like I’m filling my heart with too much hatred and all the negativities imaginable, but I’ve come to realize that it won’t do me any good, I guess at some point I just got tired, my heart and my mind just decided to let the feeling go, whatever that is, whether love or hate, I decided to let it all go.
Having my heart broken is, by far, the worst feeling I’ve ever felt. It sucks, it just simply sucks. You can’t think straight, you find it hard to sleep at night and sometimes if you’re fortunate enough you’d get some sleep but only because you’ve cried yourself to sleep, you’re always gawking at your phone hoping he’d call or at least send you a message, you’re on a sullen mood and it bothers the people around you, simple love songs or songs that’ll remind you of that person will put you on the verge of tears and the list of why it sucks is endless. The good thing is that, all wounds, no matter how deep, will eventually heal.
“One of the most important lessons I've recently learned? I have to move forward without that apology. Waiting on it has bound me to an anchor that is pulling me under. What would make the other person apologize for hurting me when they're far too selfish to notice they have?”
The sulking stage is never permanent; it will never be, and as soon as you realize that you’re better than that; that fragile, stupid girl who is crying herself to sleep at night, blubbering nonsense things to her friends about how she really wanted this guy, and drowning herself with agony because this guy doesn’t want her back or at least return the favor, as soon as the realization kicks in, that stage; that stage of depression, will be over. Right now I’m still hurting and I guess it’ll be there, for a while, whenever the good times we shared will flashback in my memories, whenever I close my eyes and see his face, or hear the mere sound of his voice. The moment his name pops out of my head, the pang in my chest is like an automatic reflex. I will purposely allow that feeling because blocking it will only make things worse; I would just envelope the pain until that time comes, that it’ll no longer hurt me anymore.
They say that there’s always a rainbow after the rain, there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and there’s sunlight after every storm, and I believe that. We may stumble and fall but what’s important is how we get up, chins up, and get our lives back on track.
“She moved on, and I feel sorry for you, because she thought you were the most amazing boy ever. If she could have had any guy in the world, she still would have picked you. Now you’re just another part of her past, a memory more faded every day. And someday, she’ll find the one she deserves, and he will make her the happiest girl in the world.”
This would be my last glance on that girl; that girl who has been taken over by her obscured mind; that girl whose heart was shattered into pieces, and it would also be my last glance on him; that boy who broke my heart, that boy who’s now buried in my past and that place is RIGHT WHERE HE SHOULD BE.