I always wondered why I didn’t look like art.
You know, just look ethereal and dreamy.
And I’m not talking body,
it’s more about how some people just flow.
The sound of their laughter, the tilt of their head,
the curve of their nose and the crinkles in their eyes when they smile.
It’s about how in their anger they look majestic and in their pain they look like a fallen angel.
They always sound smart,you know, even when they are pointing out the obvious.
Their world view always manages to wow you and blow your mind.
They have this way of capturing a room,
drawing people in like moths to the flame
and then keeping them in their hold like a haunting melody.
They aren’t normally the prettiest,smartest or even best dressed in the room;
It’s just an aura, an energy around them that draws you in.
They always seem sure of themselves,
even when they are confused they are certain in their uncertainty.
I always wanted to be one of those people;
I wanted to be equally blunt and open as I was mysterious and aloof.
I wanted heads to turn as I walk in
and breaths to catch as I enter a room.
I wanted my voice to sound like that of an angel
and my laughter to be like the sound of music.
I wanted to be more than ordinary.
I wanted to people to love me so much even though they have no reason why.
I wanted to love myself, but I couldn’t.
Something was wrong with me…maybe it will always be.
I figured the way to do it would be get that artsy quality to myself;
make myself a wonder of a human being to both me and others.
Is it something you’re born with? Or do you study in a certain school or class?
Is it something you picked up from others or from your surroundings?
Is it pretend or is it a soul trait that just runs through?
I spent weeks, months and years trying to get the answer.
I held my head down and cried myself to sleep on many a night.
It wrecked me; it consumed me until I had nothing left.
And then I met you, I talked to you, I fell for you; hard.
You laughed at my jokes but not too much
You never really called unless you were calling back
You soaked up my attention but gave me none of yours
You asked me how to win other girls’ hearts
You made me feel beautiful,ethereal and majestic
And you always were busy, forever busy with anything but me.
You see where I’m going here?
You were the balm for my wounded soul and band aid on the heart I broke myself.
But you didn’t even know.
It hurt you know, it hurt so bad.
It hurt because I loved you and you didn’t love me the same.
It hurt because to you this was just a game
It hurt because you never knew how I felt.
It hurt because you didn’t hurt me on purpose.
You never made any promises that you could break
You never told me anything that wasn’t true
You never led me on or forced me into something.
You always looked for my best and encouraged it.
You were my best friend, still are and I will always love you.
Even as I watch you love her,marry her,have a life with her.
Heartbreak is never easy. Especially when the reason is illogical.
It’s OK to be heartbroken by a person who leaves to pursue their dreams, by a parent who neglects you, by a friend who betrays you, by a love that ran cold.
You can heal with time, care,patience and the right kind of love
But when you break your own heart through your own expectations, shortcomings and dreams? That is harder to deal with.
You don’t know how to heal yourself because you broke yourself
and we all know that the one who broke you cannot fix you.
It’s hard to put together that which wasn’t exactly there to break right?
If the relationship didn’t really exist then how can you really be broken by its total non existence?
If you never really got that opportunity/job/loam then why does it hurt ?
If they never really paid attention to you then why does it kill you when they blatantly ignore you?
How do you heal a heart that broke itself?
How do you fight your own mind to win over itself?
How do you stop tears that you caused?
How do you get over something that never started?
How do you love yourself when you never even liked who you were?
How do you learn how not to hate yourself?
Does it ever get easier?
Do you ever really heal?
Or is that why we get more jaded, guarded and bitter with time?
Does our realism cover a multitude of self inflicted pain?
Does our ‘common sense’ and ‘no expectations’ really make life easier?
How do you heal your own heart when you’re the one who broke it?
Funny thing though,
now that I am broken I have suddenly become that artsy girl.
People flock to me and heads turn in awe.
They say I am deep, that I speak wisdom
and they claim that I have never been more beautiful or had better skin.
But here I am still struggling to love myself for who I am not who I thought I should be.
Here I am still in love with you and hoping you’d notice.
Here I am still trying to cover the pain with smiles and self depreciating humor.
And I can’t even say I’m heartbroken because how will I explain it?
How will I say that my own perceived shortcomings wounded me?
And how will I say that my expectations messed me up?
How will I tell people that I took my own heart and ripped it out?
Just tell me how I can heal my own broken heart.
Thanks for reading lovelies. Comment if you liked it,subscribe and share. Much love,besos