“You wish you could ignore it, but it’s all you can think of. As your mutual friends all turn their eyes to you — waiting for you to lose it, waiting for you to go into “crazy ex” mode and start implicating them in your messiness — you can’t help but turn your eyes to the new couple. You have never felt a stronger desire to know every detail and yet be so wounded by every thought. You want to know, but you don’t. You hate them, but you love them. And all the while, the pressure to remain mature, to remain the person who accepts a love lost with a stoic generosity, becomes more than you can bear. It feels as though everyone gets to continue living their life and enjoying themselves except you. You are the one who has to be humiliated, who has to learn from everyone else’s mistakes.“
i want to believe that time doesn’t rip parts of your past away from you. i want to tell you that it never gets easier to breathe and it never gets easier to live day to day, but it does. time erases what was once an essential part of you and the only thing you can do is allow yourself to be ripped apart and thrown away.
the only thing you can do is accept that you’re forgetting, and you in turn, are being forgotten.
when you’re a kid, you think maybe what you learn when you get older is when to put a punctuation mark in a sentence. you think maybe your vocabulary will expand and you’ll figure out how to pen all your million thoughts out with the million words you’ll know by then.
these things don’t happen.
you learn that you don’t know anymore than you knew at thirteen.
you don’t know how to cope with loss. you don’t know how you manage to wake up every morning. you don’t have the words to explain what it feels like and how it gets better.
it just does.
and you become shiny and whole again. a new person for another person.
you learn over and over and over again the same lessons you keep learning from. today, i’m twenty and i’m thinking “maybe when i get older, i’ll finally get it. these lessons that i keep going through.”
because they’re the same. every. single. time.
but you don’t.
because crazy is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.
yet for some reason, we go into relationships knowing they’re the same, but hoping they aren’t anyways.
maybe this is the fairytale: that we always hope.