Heartache. She has many faces. When I had my heart broken for the first time it wasn't just a boy who stomped all over my heart, it was me who let him. No free pass for him though, he sucked. But, I can't put all the blame on him. He disrespected me again and again. My time, my body, my family, and I let him. Arguably my fault.

I was a junior in high school. Smart, creative, sarcastic, self assured, and self conscious of my looks. In a small rural school everyone knew everyone. My crush from the 6th grade was still my crush junior year. But after all those years he hadn't shown any interest. I was convinced I wasn't much to look at, wasn't worth anyone's time. But, that spring his number popped up in my phone. It kept popping up for the next two months, I was shocked. Did he like me?

This boy was an athlete, responsible, tall, and on track to be Valedictorian. A parents dream? So it seemed. I thought we had a lot in common, I thought he was quite a catch. I treated him as such, gushing over him to my friends, waiting on his every text. And maybe I should have see the red flags, but I joyfully ignored them. I was a naïve princess skipping through a forest fire, completely oblivious if you can imagine that.

At the beginning I think he truly liked me. But, looking back on it, that time was short lived. After a couple months he began to cancel our dates. "I'll pick you up at 5." I would spend the whole day getting ready, shower, shave, moisturize, stress. Five would roll around and nothing. My stomach in knots. After ten minutes or so another text would come in, "Hey I'm not feeling good, I can't come over." We'd do this little dance at least once or twice a week. Strange though, for all the times he "wasn't feeling well" he never missed a single day of school, or baseball game. But, like a young girl in love I ignored this.

My parents and brother saw right through this charade, trying softly to tell me this wasn't right. But, I ignored their warnings, happily planning date after date. Somewhere in this timeline he told me he loved me. That was the fatal shot. Nothing he did could make me question his words. "But he loves me." It went farther of course. I won't rehash what happened behind closed doors. But, the classic story of popular athlete and insecure girl, where no doesn't seem to mean anything isn't too far off.

So there I was, ten months into the relationship. Miserable, tired, angry underneath it all, and I still wanted to be with him. He was coming over on Thursday night. I was waiting for the text that he couldn't make it. But, I got a different text from a friend, "Hey just so you know, Scott was telling people that he's breaking up with you." Was I shocked? No, he hadn't said he loved me in weeks, but I guess I never took the hint. He picked me up in his grey truck. Opened the door for me without a word. I could feel it building up between us.

He didn't apologize, he didn't sympathize. Just said he was done, he didn't love me any more, and he really didn't want to try to work things out. Was this the part where he broke my heart? No, not exactly, he had broken my heart nearly every day for months. But this was the day I broke my own heart. I sat in that stupid truck with that mean, stupid boy and I begged him to stay, I asked him to love me, to try just one more time. How embarrassing.

It has taken me a long time to forgive myself for that day, for the whole thing really. I had spent my whole life thinking I was independent, smart, a girl with a good head on my shoulders. But, when a tall boy who I thought was a "good guy" broke me down and disrespected me in every way possible I let him right in. So, all of this goes to say, listen to your parents when they tell you someone is a piece of shit.

if your heart feels

Heavy. . . . . . .

and toooooo BIG

for the chest

( (( within ))) )

then it must be

very, Very, FULL!

And if, you feelll

a squeeeeeeeeze,

in the center of

your being

and nary a drop .

more comes clean

upon the breast,

Then you can

be sure you've

Given,

EVERYTHING

.

06.15.2023

Heartache challenge @MorganFaith

In the depths of vulnerability, I treaded the treacherous path of love, unaware of the impending storm that awaited. It was a tale of shattered fragments, where heartbreak etched its painful mark upon my soul.

Once, there existed a love so profound, vibrant colors danced in its wake. We wove dreams of forever, believing our bond was unbreakable, immune to the whims of fate. But destiny, with its fickle ways, had other plans in store.

The tempest arrived abruptly, tearing through the serenity we cherished. Words turned to daggers, piercing the tender fabric of trust. Aching silence replaced laughter, and warmth turned into icy echoes of memories.

I watched helplessly as the foundation crumbled beneath my trembling feet. Tears became my companions, as grief wrapped around my wounded heart, squeezing relentlessly. Each beat echoed with a searing pain, reminding me of what once was, now forever lost.

Days blurred into nights, an abyss of sorrow consuming my essence. The sun, once a source of solace, offered no respite from the darkness within. Fragments of our love lingered, haunting my thoughts, reminding me of what could never be salvaged.

Yet, amidst the ruins, a glimmer of resilience emerged. Slowly, I gathered the shards of my shattered heart, feeling the jagged edges slice through my fingers. With time's gentle touch, I began to heal, stitching together the fragments with threads of self-love and newfound strength.

Heartache became my silent teacher, guiding me toward self-discovery and growth. Through the tears, I found resilience, an inner flame that refused to be extinguished. In the depths of despair, I unearthed an unwavering belief in my own capacity to love and be loved, despite the scars etched upon my wounded heart.

Now, as I stand on the other side of heartbreak, I embrace the lessons learned. Love may bring both euphoria and heartache, but I choose to treasure the moments that once bloomed. For it is through the depths of pain that we cultivate the resilience to rise, redefining our shattered selves into something stronger, something beautifully flawed.

So, let the echoes of heartache serve as a reminder—a testament to the human spirit's capacity to endure, rebuild, and find solace in the fractured beauty that emerges from the ashes of lost love.