I often wondered what you did with all the love you have for someone after they were gone. Do you seal them safely in an airtight jar stored right at the back of your heart just in case they come back for it all someday? Or do you give them away to someone else, hoping they'll take good care? I prefer the latter. Because what's love worth if it's not for giving? But then again, what happens then when you offered yourself to someone, and they opened you up and they discovered that you were not the gift they expected but they have to smile and nod and say thank you all the same.
Okay, no, I know what you're thinking but you're wrong. This isn’t about a broken heart. None of it is. Not the blog, or it's name. Not the poems or the posts, not this post. None of it. None of it. You are wrong, because a broken heart implies a kind of
shattering, a searching the cold marble floors of this house for pieces that might have
gotten lost beneath the covers or between the creases in the couch. Pieces swept under the carpet and forgotten like the light in the fridge when the door closes.
My heart isn’t broken. It has been before but that was a long time a ago. It’s long-since been patched together and, despite the occasional stutter, it functions quite well. This is about a heart that aches with memories too big for its fragile little form, that is bursting on all sides from love that was never wanted, love that was never needed - love rejected in every way.
This is about an aching heart struggling to deal. Because to begin again every single time, it's exhausting. To watch as they carve their names on you, until you parts fall off. To give and give until there was nothing left, until they give it all back one day, dumped rather carelessly in a cardboard box along with the memories they no longer needed. In the end, your feelings are all you have left for yourself. You feelings and the memories he has already started to forget.
So do you understand now? Do you understand what this is? Do you understand that even though I may seem strong and it may look easy but it's not. I struggle. Everyday. There are days when I want to rip my heart off my body and find something easier to take it's place so that things make sense because leaving the guy of my dreams so he could be with the girl of his dreams doesn't make any sense at all to me, even if it was the right thing to do.
You know, new beginnings don't always have to start with something new. I have come here to start over with what I have managed to salvage from the wreck so please do not judge me. I did not come here to be judged and though there may be stories much more devastating than mine, but these are mine all the same. So I am dumping everything onto the floor so I can better organize. So I know what needs to stay and what can finally go. So I can take what stays and make something worth taking a second glance at out of it.
when the remembering was done, the forgetting could begin.
My heart isn’t broken. It has been before but that was a long time a ago. It’s long-since been patched together and, despite the occasional stutter, it functions quite well. This is about a heart that aches with memories too big for its fragile little form, that is bursting on all sides from love that was never wanted, love that was never needed - love rejected in every way.
This is about an aching heart struggling to deal. Because to begin again every single time, it's exhausting. To watch as they carve their names on you, until you parts fall off. To give and give until there was nothing left, until they give it all back one day, dumped rather carelessly in a cardboard box along with the memories they no longer needed. In the end, your feelings are all you have left for yourself. You feelings and the memories he has already started to forget.
So do you understand now? Do you understand what this is? Do you understand that even though I may seem strong and it may look easy but it's not. I struggle. Everyday. There are days when I want to rip my heart off my body and find something easier to take it's place so that things make sense because leaving the guy of my dreams so he could be with the girl of his dreams doesn't make any sense at all to me, even if it was the right thing to do.
You know, new beginnings don't always have to start with something new. I have come here to start over with what I have managed to salvage from the wreck so please do not judge me. I did not come here to be judged and though there may be stories much more devastating than mine, but these are mine all the same. So I am dumping everything onto the floor so I can better organize. So I know what needs to stay and what can finally go. So I can take what stays and make something worth taking a second glance at out of it.
when the remembering was done, the forgetting could begin.
2 comments:
so garang!! ahahahah...
hahaha... oops! it wasn't meant to be. hihi..
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