it’s scary and painful, how much can change within such a short period of time. it’s a hard truth to grasp, in all honesty, i’ve been grappling with it for so long… longer than i can remember. letting go is a lot harder to do than saying it, because sometimes, your mind acknowledges the truth, but your heart hurts from it, and how do you really move on, exactly?
people are very much like glass bottles. the fragility of their beings are lost in the immensity of the things they carry. each piece of hurt, each piece of happiness, of love, of loss they experience piling up within the bottle of themselves, accruing as time passes. what happens when the bottle fills up completely?
i cannot say.
a lot of times, i find myself thinking i’ve reached that point. that point when i can no longer take anymore, can no longer smile, can no longer be OK, but i push on, putting on the happy face, going out into the world, meeting new people, doing new things, anything to keep the emptiness, the pain, the rejection at bay.
i honestly don’t know how long i can keep doing that.
i always thought that it would become easier to cope, easier to deal with the more time passes. like… there should be a set recipe or list of instructions you should become intimately familiar with as time passes, right? a formula to get rid or over a broken heart? every time it happens, i expect the pain to be less, to be more bearable. i expect to be better equipped at handling it, but i realize that… it doesn’t become easier. contrary to my expectations.
the pain doesn’t decrease. it doesn’t lessen. it only builds up and with each passing moment, it turns into a tumultuous attack of feelings of utter worthlessness. why couldn’t it be enough? why wasn’t i enough? what did i do wrong? i keep hoping someone will pick me up and cuddle me, hold me close to their chest and say, “it isn’t your fault. it isn’t you. you did your best. this is no one’s fault”, but no one ever does.
logically, things are easy to comprehend. it’s the matter of emotion that’s hard. but i think i’ve arrived at a little epiphany, no matter how painful it may be, it’s better to hurt from the truth than to live in a lie. the past is comfortable because it’s familiar, but no matter how secure we felt back then, it’s wrong to run back to the past. it’s stupid, and that’s a truth i was once conscious of, but had forgotten.
sometimes, we have to hurt to grow, and i firmly believe that. even as the bottle begins to overflow, even as cracks begin to appear, isn’t it better to hurt than to not love? everything is so temporary. so fleeting.
i used to be one of those people who were in love with moments because they did not last. i don’t know how to be that girl anymore, but i do know that i can’t keep trying. living in the past is as painful as it is easy. i may not know who i am right now, and i may not like this person, but it’s me, and i have to keep trying. because not trying is even more painful. i know that right now, things may not seem worthwhile to me, but i firmly believe that the things in life truly worth anything are meant to be fought for. they are not easily attainable, and if they were easily gained, would be taken for granted.
but of one thing i am sure, despite my teenage tendencies towards the melodramatic, that i will live on and survive this broken heart. hurt can’t last forever, that much i know to be true. after all, why waste youth pining over someone who didn’t think you were worth it. for now, i am angry, and justified in my despair, but one day, i’m sure we’ll be amicable again. until then,
“I know I am but summer to your heart,
and not the full four seasons of the year.”
– Edna Vincent St. Millay.