Shocking upheaval delivered unexpectedly.
The heartache pounded harshly inward.
Internal distress burnt a tortuous red.
A deep cut surrounded by a million small tears.
The stress widened all the wounds.
Anguish and heartbreak followed.
The future, unending and suffering agony.
Sorrow and grief dictated the next steps for survival.
This daedal misery mimicked a slow death.
Love left in a upset heap, an untidy disarray of hurt.
This… this from someone who cherished commitment.
“Men are every bit as sneaky and calculating and venomous as women are widely suspected to be.” Lili Loofbourow
“Did I do that? OH! I’m sorry, that was not my intention.”
“Ugh, I suck. Can you forgive me? “
Eyes of innocence before me for the 1000th time.
Him being purposefully confused to purposefully confuse me.
Slick like oil.
An engineered game well-played to my detriment.
I am maneuvered purposefully, skillfully.
Me still loving, trusting and believing.
Directed by his intention I question myself.
My judgment is slipping.
Damn it.
For the last time.
“It’s the only way I know how to love someone. If I bring a smile to someone’s face, I feel like I have shown them I love them. So, yes, I look to make her happy. Her happiness means the world to me.” And the therapist asked a question I could not answer then, “At what cost to you…?”
Giving that doesn’t take into account a woman’s desires, isn’t shared happiness.
It’s an obligation on her part to say thank you for a kindness without thought.
Each act showing a deliberate lack of understanding her soul.
Recognize retribution for your ignorance will cost you the relationship.
And it’s not her fault.
But there you’ll go, blaming her and all woman-kind.
Grow up.
My guard is up.
Feeling dark emotions now
because of your acts.
And in that moment of forced togetherness
I felt like the boy eating off the filth of a paper city
I realised I’m forcing the same trash through my heart
In craving to be someone’s priorityVasvi Gupta – excerpt from Reversed Smiles
Find the specific details on why you loved this person, and it’s okay to find yourself still loving this person, but you have to see that these qualities do exist with a person who’s waiting for you, who’s even willing to give you more.
Let go of the fantasy. Loss is a good place to love yourself more and work on forgiving yourself more.
Baby, don’t think that the time you spent with that person was lost for it has prepared you for this very moment, our conversation here.
Heartache may lead to the suicide of the mind but never of the soul.
We’re not special, not like before.
I don’t fucking like you anymore.
Was before even all that? Was it even real?
You catapulted your heart and adoration away to another.
I transport back to emotions I was forced to leave behind. Aching for them.
Support is not commitment when your lover suffers subtle degrees of rejection.
Your focus was where it shouldn’t have been.
Layers of my strength came undone with your carelessness.
I was livid. I was lost.
I am lost, and still here.
Now what?
Love, becoming one.
Intensity together.
Then pain. Two again.
**The image prompted a reliving of my personal moment but click here for what inspired the artist to create this beautiful sculpture. Click here to see another perspective of the moving version.
My lover was a heart lesson.
“You presumed to decide what was best for me. Even if I resolve the anger, the pain you caused, I can’t trust you. Ever. I’m standing before a stranger.”
Raymond Reddington – The Blacklist
Same sentiment, different situation.
The judgment of that line from a script mimics life. My life.
Ever so dramatically, flashing sensations of Oof, suffering, the feelz surround me.
Waves drowning me, on dry land.
The imagination drawn to retribution, naturally.
But who would it serve?
I’d still be alone.
