Heartbreak is a strange phenomenon.
People experience heartbreak is so many ways. Some cry. Some scream. Some eat. Some sleep. Or a combination of all of the above and more.
My life felt like it was turned upside down at the beginning of the year, right when I was actually letting myself feel the joy and hope of the New Year. I was ready to leave 2015 behind and move forward.
But then a proverbial Molotov cocktail flew into my heart. It shattered me and took everything I thought was “mine forever” away.
Despite having a beautiful, supportive, healthy childhood, I have learned to cope with pain, loss, suffering, and heartbreak in all its facets. You have to learn to cope so the pain doesn’t take you down with it.
So I packed up my life, and moved far away. I was scared, confused, and so, SO hurt.
Most of the hurt was because I knew I was being lied to. I always know when I’m being lied to. What drives me craziest is when I know I’m being lied to, and I call the liar out, somehow I am the one being called names like “crazy,” “paranoid,” or “dramatic.”
I listen to my heart, my head, and my gut. And when they all band together and sing in harmony, I know that I’m right.
I hate being right. Sometimes I wish I really was just making it all up in my head, like a story. Blame it on my writer brain.
But I’m right.
Today I finally say farewell to any hope I still humored. Any ounce of me that still hoped you might one day realize what you’ve done has evaporated, like tea left over night.
I refuse to believe people are inherently evil. I will always believe people are good, deep down. I will forgive mistakes because no matter what, people are imperfect.
But once I’ve pegged you for a liar; once you’ve broken all your promises; once you’ve proven me right, please exit stage left.
If I loved you once, I love you still…
…stay the fuck away from me, though.