It really does hurt when one’s heart breaks, maybe not literally or physically, but boy, does it hurt more when it goes beyond the physical. It could be a little dent, but to some, it ends up being shattered. Funny how love goes from happy to lonely, from paradise to hell, and from something good to tragic. Love, as Nicholas Sparks defined or described it, is always accompanied by pain or tragedy.
Hearing the stories shared by my friends about their feelings with the people they felt a connection with yesterday made me open up a bit of the feelings I’ve bottled up for a long time and I let myself reminisce. Opening it up was something I chose not to do before because talking and thinking about it feels like scratching an old wound.
I’ve had my share of heartbreak and it was never a fast process, it was a bit too gradual and I guess, that’s what made it all the more painful. When you become broken emotionally, piece by piece, everyday, you’re bound to bleed longer and heal slower.
I’ve fallen in love once, even if I didn’t want to in the first place. Love was such a scary thing to experience, though I feel happy and thrilled for those who have had the chance to experience them or were still experiencing them. I was also not the mushy, clingy or sweet type and it’s hard for me to show my affections for anyone. In the past, I ended up being cold to guys who try to court me and I show my affections for my friends by teasing them and the like. Yet, even if I was scared and I wasn’t the affectionate type, for the first time, I risked the chance at pain for a shot at happiness. I was happy being with him, seeing him, talking to him. But eventually, a few months ago, we broke up. We have had our share of good times but in the end, it didn’t work out.
It hurt because even if I haven’t told him or made him feel that I’d want him to be THE one—for I was never the type to say things such as, “forever” or talk about stuff as marriage and children—deep inside, I wanted him to be the first and the last man I’d love. I just didn’t want to be taken for granted for I’ve seen a lot of my friends being treated like that.
I knew from the start that if I entered a relationship, it would never be a game and it would be long term. I still remember how he’d say that I’d be the last, that he wanted to marry me, that there would never be another person to whom he’d feel such strong emotions for. Yet, I never really believed him. They were all just words. I want words as well as actions and what he was talking about was too idealistic. I’ve seen a lot of couples talk and plan about those ideas but they usually don’t happen.
I felt that, someday, I was bound to lose him as well. Don’t get me wrong, I may not have believed him, but I wanted what he said to come true. I really did. My words might have said otherwise but my feelings and thoughts had demanded, “Let him be the one!”
What I wanted was for him to make it happen. Words without actions were meaningless. I don’t want to just settle with plain talk, I also want the work that would make it come true. He could’ve just said those things because we were happy at the moment, but when hard times came by, would he still think of it, of us that way?
Since we’ve already broken up and he was nowhere near trying to start anew with me, apparently, he no longer sees me as his “future”. I guess, that’s what helped me cope up, or adjust somehow. If I’d had oriented myself to a future with him in it, and then see that future no longer possible, it would have hurt more and I’m not sure if I could have cope up better.
I never believed in promises, and it’s a good thing I’ve continued not to believe in it, because obviously, they were really meant to be broken. I may not have believed the promises and the words, but I knew that he was sincere when he said them and no matter how I refused to believe such words, no one can blame me if I said that somehow, I had hoped that everything he said would someday be a reality.
It might seem that I no longer cared, or hurt, but honestly, I still do, though it’s no longer as overwhelming as when it was still fresh.It has been around 7 months since we’ve broken up, but it still hurt a bit when I remember the memories we’ve shared, whether they were good or bad memories. I just couldn’t bring up myself to show that I was hurt because, I don’t want him or anyone to see that I was badly affected, maybe, it was pride that was letting me look happy and moved on. Afterall, what good would it do me if I continue brooding over a corner for something that obviously didn’t work no matter how sincere and true our feelings were?
It really hurt that it didn’t work out; it hurt because I felt that he didn’t put too much effort to make it work again, to win me back when we broke up. All I wanted was an effort on his part, to show me that he was still sincere and that his feelings hadn’t changed despite the problems we’ve been experiencing. If I could have felt or seen that effort or sincerity, we could have made it work. And thus, it hurt when I’ve expected for him to do something—anything—and yet, he didn’t. That was why I never wanted to expect because it would hurt when expectations weren’t met, apparently, he was the exception. I couldn’t help expecting because I badly wanted it to happen. Sadly, it didn’t.
It hurt that when we broke up, after a few months, he became attracted to someone else. It hurt when he told me through text that he was starting to like that person and that person was someone I knew. Instead of begging him to come back or asking him to make it work with us first, pride made me reply and encourage him and tell him it was okay if he fell for someone else, he was no longer bound to me anyway. While I was texting him those words/thoughts, I was crying. Hard. I didn’t care that my friends saw me at such a vulnerable state because I couldn’t help it, I was deeply hurt. (They were a bit shocked; they haven’t seen me cry that way before and they didn’t know that I was hurt that bad since I seemed okay the whole time.)
For that moment, I blessed the souls of the people who invented the concept of text messaging because it prevented him from seeing me too broken. Even if I had said those words, deep inside, I didn’t want him to listen to my advice. It was a test as well as a matter of pride and I didn’t want him to feel guilty for liking someone else or pity me. If he listened to my advice, he wasn’t worth it anymore. It he didn’t listen and still pursued me… wow, happy ending! But, since happy endings only happen in fairy tales, he listened to me and obviously, he’s been messaging the girl and all that.
Then, just recently, I learned from an orgmate of his that while he was still texting me after our break up, he was also becoming close with another girl (different from the girl he told me he’s starting to like) and that they were being teased and rumored as an “item” by their orgmates. I really felt like a fool upon hearing all of those things. Why was he still being sweet and even went out with me and be like that with someone else as well? I never knew that something like this happened until just recently.
I knew now that he was no longer worth the tears, or anything, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I don’t cry as frequently and as hard as I used to after that but the tears are still there. Once I start reminiscing, it’s hard to stop, especially when I wanted to remember.
Memories are the only things that don’t change when everything else does and thus, you can’t easily forget when you’re left with so much to remember.
It would definitely be a long time before I can say that I’ve totally moved on. I’m not sure if I still love him or feelings are still there. It could be that I was crying for the “what ifs”, “What if my pride wasn’t so high?”; “What if I had begged or asked?”, “What if he was just as doubtful as I was about my feelings for him and wanted an assurance that I still love him and I wasn’t able to show it because of my pride?”; or for the fact that it hurts to know our relationship didn’t work out. It could be that it wasn’t my heart that’s crying but my pride because he has moved on way before I did. It could be that, I felt a very big sense of loss because, maybe, I still cared.
If we couldn’t be in love with each other anymore, I would have wanted us to be friends eventually for he was a good guy. He had his flaws and shortcomings, but compared to the other guys I knew or guys I’ve heard from my friends, he was way better. He was the type that you’d be proud to introduce to your parents. Inevitably, falling for him and being attached to him wasn’t that hard.
ATTACHMENT FEELS FINE.
IT’S DETACHMENT THAT HURTS.
But I do know that one day, when I hear songs of heartbreak and loss, I wouldn’t feel shattered and broken anymore.