Heartbreak sucks. No, its much worse then that. Heartbreak, breaks. Badly.
January 28, 2016. When did that happen. The last six months have been a blur. An amalgamation of blurs, leading to this moment. Me, sitting here in front of my computer, deflated, destroyed, defeated. Heartbreak has broken me to my breaking point, it’s do or die. Do whatever you have to do to move past this or die. Ok, maybe I am being a little melodramatic. I won’t die. I don’t think. Although sometimes it feels like it’s hard to breath, and I may. Just. Die.
I will get over this. I just haven’t figured out how. Or when. Yet. That’s the thing when you are dealing with emotional pain, you are constantly looking for the end point. The end point that just doesn’t seem to be coming. I feel like it’s (only) been six months… my friends and family will say it’s been six months!!! (you see punctuation it’s overrated, aren’t we saying the same thing…) So here I am, hammering away at my keyboard because I can’t stand one more sleepless night or the dark circles that seem to have taken permanent residence under my eyes. I can’t stand to hear myself cry anymore. And the hurt runs so deep it hurts. There are so many words stuck in my head, keeping me up at night, propelling the tears that roll down my cheek. There are too many words, unsaid. They hold too many burdens, too much guilt, and too much sadness. I don’t know what I’m doing, not right this moment. Not on this blog. Not in general. But something needs to be done. And there are words that need to be set free. I need to be set free.
I suppose then I need to offer some form of context- short form. Six months ago my then boyfriend told me he’d slept with the girl he was rooming with and she was having a baby. His baby. With someone else. Six months ago he told me he was leaving me to start a new life. With someone else. But this isn’t about that, this is an experiment on transforming that discomfort, agony, suffering into the exact opposite of that. This is an essay on heartbreak. An essay on honesty, and vulnerability and life. About facing that discomfort and agony and becoming better for it.
Six months ago the words stopped. The numbness set in. Now I’m trying to find my way back to the words. Back to me. Back to happiness.