My friend, you are surviving.

You only really liked your naked body, when he was touching it. You only began to love yourself when he loved you and since he left you forgot how to. You look in the mirror and you barely notice yourself. You begin to play yourself. The 5 songs that you tried soo hard to avoid because of the feeling it gives you. Them songs have now become the songs on repeat. You look through old messages that you should of deleted and now you’re just reminiscing. Your scars reopen and you’re broken again. You’ve gotten yourself through the past few months by using things and people you think you need, but none of that can you distract you anymore. You need to accept, he’s not coming back. The sound of his voice you will eventually forget and his fingerprints will leave your body. All the memories will fade along with the pain. I know it hurts even worse because he’s the only one you’ve opened your palms too, so he could read your past through the creases in them. You let him in and he destroyed you. You’re more stronger than he thought and he thought he could break you down, but he couldn’t have his way with you. That’s strength. Today you may listen to them 5 songs over and over again, you’ll cry but remember tomorrow you will stand again. Even if you don’t, it’s okay because you’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to feel hurt. The human mind is not wired to deal with a heart break. It just knows how to survive. And look here you are, surviving ❤

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Modern Heartbreak

Modern heartbreak is seeing your message was read at 3:15pm but it’s 9:09pm and you’ve still had no reply. You start drafting messages of what you want to say but begin to think is there any point. Checking their twitter and Snapchat to see if they’ve posted anything and in most cases they have. Then you’re left thinking that you should delete the persons number but if you do that you’ll never see their display picture change on whatsapp. They’ll never see the quotes you put up or the new profile picture you took, where you look stunning. Modern break up is the unfollowing and the blocking. Modern breakup is checking twitter favourites to see who’s pictures they liked and sometimes it even directs you to the new person in their life. Modern break up is going on Snapchat and seeing him out on a meal and all you can see is a female hand, you watch it over and over again hoping your eyes are deceiving you but they aren’t. Across from him is actually a female, that’s not you. That Snapchat battle of who can make each other jealous, which you know wont end well. That one story you posted, that’s nearly expired and they still haven’t watched it but has been posting all day. Modern break up is going through your camera roll and seeing old screenshots of when things were so good and you have to question yourself, asking yourself ‘what happened’. It’s the checking to see if the persons been online every couple hours. Modern heartbreak is unfollowing them but seeing them still pop up on your twitter feed and you know you’ll see something you don’t want to see if you go on their page but you go on it anyway. Modern heartbreak is messy and no matter how much you try to escape the person, somewhere somehow there’s always a reminder.

To Whom it may concern

I should of made you wait,  

I was meant too, 

and I did for as long as I can remember. 

You see I let you in to my world but that wasn’t enough for you,

Pouring myself out until I was naked 

but

you wanted to be let in somewhere else. 

Let’s get this right though, 

Cause I remember telling you to wait, 

and you didn’t understand why, 

Something I could relate too 

because I didn’t understand why I’d have to wait hours for a reply. 

I’d open up to you and tell you how I feel,

then you’d push me away and say you got a headache 

but that headache always seemed to disappear when I was screaming your name.

Crazy that the only time I could moan 

was when it was your name.

Silly me – I lit myself on fire to make sure you was warm, 

then you wondered why I was burning and the flames seem to bother you.

How ironic. 

You told me you never really got feelings 

and wasn’t looking for a relationship,

but you seemed to want all of the perks of being one. 

I gave you it all and more,

No title involved.

I gave you that feeling 

and it might of not been in the right place

but it was enough to keep you running back. 

You’d have me round Friday night 

because your friends were all with their girlfriends,

but dawn would past 

And I wasn’t even good enough to receive a good morning text.

I wasn’t good enough to be taken out in public,

but in private you was all over me. 

It’s weird cause I loved the chase, 

but it’s like every time I got closer to you,

you’d push me away, 

as if I was some sort of disease.

I should of really ran away from you but you was a temporary distraction. 

The amount of people that desired what you had,

but I chose you,

wasted time,

energy,

feelings, 

and undeserved pain

I guess me letting your cold body touch mine only made me cold.

I Should of made you wait.

Like I was waiting 

waiting for you
 soo long that I no longer know what I am waiting for..

I suppose I just wanted you to be the person that I see in you.

but maybe my sight was unclear and I was seeing wrong.

I never loved with open arms before,

but I did with you. 

And you needed me so much, 

I stopped giving to myself.

but your pride would allow you to do without me,

if that meant you didn’t crumble,

but i guess it was okay for me to do it for you.

I waited, I did. 

Because even though you acted like you don’t need anyone,

I saw the serenity in your body language when we lay together, 

and you wanted it like I did. 

then when I wasn’t there you lived without me,

cause you are so used to going without, 

Or people leaving you 

That was never my intention. 

Your pride won’t let you say.

Or maybe I’m just seeing things I want to see.

I think hope was the reason I stayed.

no longer can I hold myself back

I can’t keep painting a beautiful image over all your excuses. 

How can you chose me, when I don’t even pick me? 

Here I was

Taking a bullet for someone who was wearing a bullet proof vest – this is exactly how I loved too hard.

Here I was trying to protect someone who didn’t need protecting. 

I should of made you wait the same way I waited. 

Just for you to be for me, what I was to you.

I waited, but today I stopped.

I Stayed

I should of guessed by the way you’d rush to leave because your mum was coming home, that you wasn’t right for me.

I stayed anyway because I thought I needed you.

I stayed even when the little things you did irritated me like telling me you wanted to go to the movies but picked me up only to go to somewhere dark so we could have car sex.

I stayed at yours one night because your mum was away and you wanted someone to cuddle but halfway through the night, you started touching my thigh because ‘you couldn’t help yourself’.

I statyed even when you’d ignore my texts and not reply for a few days.

I stayed with you even after the bruises you left on my thighs and necks because you didn’t see the difference between rough and abuse. Normally you’d laugh it off and tell me I was fine anyway.

The worst part is I’m not even the one that walked away, it was you. You left me. I probably would have stayed as long as I could because you made me think it was love. It wasn’t love, it was a sick, twisted manipulated situation. It was torture so thank you for finally doing something for me and that’s leaving.

Letter to myself.

I’m sorry it got bad when it was already awful. I don’t know why I let you hold more weight than you can hold, knowing you was already drained and couldn’t bare to lift any of it . I should of never let you cry your self to sleep over people who left because they never knew your worth. I should have reminded you. I don’t know why I even allowed you to settle for someone who continually hurt you and made you believe it was love, as if you couldn’t find better. You’re worth loving, you deserve love. You are loved. You deserve the world. I apologise for allowing people to keep taking from you, when they gave you nothing but disappointment and lies, why I never told you go with your gut feelings, I dunno. I don’t know why I allowed you to blame yourself, knowing you had earthquakes for hands and a heart that beat too loud for something that small. I’m sorry for the days I cared about how you looked in the mirror when you was ill and fighting a battle for me. I wish I would of protected you, from people, viruses and also myself. I’m sorry Depression knocked and I let her in, knowing how weak you was from her last visit. I guess when we built up this wall, we forgot to lock her out. I wish I would of told you -‘this is not the answer’ as you went to the shop to buy alcohol. We already knew the answer wasn’t at the bottom of any of those bottles. I know it got bad, I know you got scared at times. I know you didn’t care if the next day came or not but I’m so proud you’re here today. I’m sorry I made you overthink the simple things instead of letting you enjoy them. I let you question yourself way too much this year but I never meant to. I let you fly but held you back from touching the stars, I promise from today I’ll let go. I promise that from this year forward I’ll give you the strength each day to get out of bed. I will stop making you tolerate anyone or things less than you deserve. You are smart. You are special. You are beautiful. You are essential. I will remember to love you, love you with every ounce of light in me, even when it gets dark. 

I’m sorry it got bad every time it got better but I promise you, one day you’ll achieve everything you’ve been fighting for. I promise as we go into this new year that I’ll cloak you with the love they did not take. I promise you, one day you will wake up and it will all be sooo beautiful.

Missing Person

I grew up believing that I was born with something broken inside of me, something that my mother tried soo hard to fix that she forgot to fix herself.

I wonder if the doctors realised my shoulders was too weak to bare the weight of absence.

I used to tell myself that’s why he’s not around.

That one day he realised I wouldn’t be able to handle losing love so he left before becoming that loss.

I wonder if he would have still left if he knew that over twenty years down the line, the weight of his absence would still be so heavy. That the only way to lighten the hurt would be to distance myself from the person I was becoming without him.

I think my mum thought that if she told me she loves me enough times, she could try to replace the love I was missing, she tried. I mean she really did, but it just didn’t work. I know she thought she had enough love for the both of us but it never filled the absence. When a parent is absent by choice, there’s always going to be something missing. Questions unanswered.

I don’t even know what my father looks like, but my mum has told me several times I look just like him. That part of his face found a home on mine and sometimes she won’t look at me, and I wonder if it’s because every time she looks at me, I just remind her of the person that broke her heart?

Who knows..

And for a long while I’d search his name in the search bar on Google, because all I wanted to do was show him the scars on my knees from learning how to ride a bike all by myself.

One day I am going to let him know, the only thing he gave to me was the inability to trust.

One day I going to tell him, that all the lessons that he was meant to teach me about boys I had to learn myself.

I wonder if he would even look into my eyes because he’d only be staring into the eyes of his own and know that he is the reason why they are soo empty.

Even though it’s been years, I always seem make excuses for him, like maybe he never called because it slipped his mind. Plus who else would I have gotten my  poor memory from because I knew it wasn’t from my mum, my mother remembered everything.

They say you can’t miss someone you never met and I’m living proof that’s a lie because Its been over twenty years and I still think I can feel my fathers hand holding mine.

I still have the cards I made you from nursery up until I was 8. I think I was 8 when I finally realised you probably would never show up to receive your Father’s Day card, Christmas card or anything I made for you.

I realised that some people are lucky to live with both parents and some children have two houses as their parents split but both parents was a big part of their child’s life.

Then there was me, the unlucky one. One Parent and One House.

I just wish he would of shown up to at least ONE of my birthdays. I grew up saying my fathers name as I blew out the candles that were never lit by him.

I grew up thinking that he wasn’t there to see my first breath because It would be hard for him to stick to the plan. The plan to save me from a loss that’s too great for me to hold. I told myself he couldn’t bear to watch his daughter grow up, knowing that some day his time would come he’d have to leave and it would ruin me.

I told myself he was a good man.

I told myself he didn’t want to be a part of my life if he couldn’t witness all of it.

I told myself that some men just don’t know how to be fathers,

I told myself that until I found out he had another daughter.

You know how the small the world is,  my mum ran into someone in the grocery store who then told my mum my father just had his third child.

Third?

I didn’t know how to take it.

I began to envy them because they’ll never have to learn how to ride a bike by themselves, blow out candles and wish for him to return. They won’t have the long term issues like – Do you know how hard it is to let someone love you when the person who’s meant to wouldn’t?

It’s soo hard to love someone when the person you loved, didn’t want it.

I can’t wait for the day I meet this man.

One day I’ll introduce myself and tell him I have met him in every person I have loved and watched leave.

One day I’ll face him,

but for now I’ll just go on his Facebook that I finally found and look through pictures,

With him, his 3 kids and wife

and wonder how come he loved them but never loved me.

My Person

He can’t start over with someone else because no one will ever love him like I do. No one will ever care how much as I did to ask questions about his past, like when his dad left and how he felt. No one will ever be able to understand why he can’t stop his possessive ways and I don’t want them to. I don’t want her to ever experience his hand playing in her hair as she lay on his chest. I don’t want her to randomly get a ‘be ready in a hour’ text. I don’t want her to feel comfort in the arms that was able to make me feel so safe, that’s my safe place. I don’t want him to be loyal to her, he was meant to be loyal to me. I don’t want her to hear him reciting the lyrics to his favourite songs and I sure don’t want them driving around to the same songs I introduced to him to. She won’t ever know where the scar under his eye came from. I don’t want them to think about their future and argue about things like what they want their future children’s name to be. I don’t want her to be able to wake up to long messages most mornings, telling her how much he appreciates her. I don’t want her to be able to experience him breathing down her neck as he lay asleep. I don’t want her to watch him peacefully sleep and stare at his beautiful face, admiring how lucky she is. How much she loves him. I love him. I don’t want her to ever experience the love and affection I got from him. I don’t want her to be able to witness his annoying side, no matter how much I would complain at the time. I know I don’t always show him how much I care about him but he can’t move on. I can’t allow anyone to know him the way I do. I don’t want anyone to feel lucky to have him because that’s my boy. And that’s my person.