La muerte del corazón

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I witnessed myself die today. An illogical, irrational kind of death. 

It wasn’t exactly quiet because I was choked in tears before that, but right when my heart goes into cardiac arrest, yes. Everything froze. I clutched my heart as though the pain was physical.

In fact right at that moment I wished it was physical. I wanted it to be something that I could either treat at the doctor’s, or something that I could physically die from. But it wasn’t.

It was the worst kind of death. My heart wasn’t lain to rest. It just remained in its stricken state, plagued by such emotional epilepsy that wouldn’t seem to leave even after my heart was rendered motionless.

If breathing wasn’t voluntary, I believe it would have stopped too. Since a long time ago, I have asked myself; How do you describe a heartache?

There really isn’t an answer because this pain; this torment is so ineffable.

There are different kinds of love. But this kind of love, as I have experienced in my course of life, albeit still inexperienced; hurts the longest and cuts the deepest – When you lose yourself loving someone, only to realize that person no longer loves you.

It was a slow death. Eating away at your soul, and then finally, when your skin is tender from the gradual peeling, when your heart is knocked senseless, the sharp knife comes at you from the shadows.

You feel back flow of blood cascading, gushing past the valves. Your eyes widen with shock as the control of all 5 senses abandon you in a split second.

Immobility; and then the aftershock kicks your tear glands to an overdrive. The tears cloud your vision and you crumble into a pile, Fetal position, as though in meek attempt to protect your heart.

He has left. for good.

And what’s the worst? “The things belonging to me at your house, you can do whatever you want with it.”

But I loved you. And I think, I will be for a long long time.

 

 

poetic sorrow.

Letter to his next gf:

Please remember to make him coffee every night after work, he likes it with a spoonful (or less) of sugar and it has to be with milk.

He likes head massages, not to hard, slightly ticklish.

I hope you buy him 2 tangoes and ward mid for him. Hes so good with invoker, you’d never want to watch anyone else again.

He likes you to wait for him at home as he comes back from work; give him a hug and don’t let him eat too much macdonalds.

Ferrero Rocher is kind of like the most convenient chocolate that he likes. Buy him plenty because he gobbles everything.

Nuzzle his cheeks and kiss his lips because they are so soft. He’ll love it.

He loves to sleep. But he’ll love to lie beside you whilst you do your stuff. Just be quiet as he is a light sleeper.

Always shower him with praises, because he always think lowly of himself.

I hope you’ll shower him with plenty of patience, love and understanding because he isn’t a social creature. He will keep things in his heart and just drown in his own negative emotions if you don’t ask him over and over again. He’s very insecure but extremely observant, so he knows what you’re thinking and feeling even without you saying it. Watch his Chinese dramas with him, it’ll make him happy. Cuddle him to sleep because he’s a snuggler. Don’t engage in infidelity.. you will really break his heart. And lastly, don’t ever buy him branded stuff. Buy him computer gadgets or steam credits. 😉

I can promise you, if you give him all of the above, he will be the best boyfriend you’ll ever have.

Sadly, fate has it that our affinity has to end. So I hope you can love him more than I had.

_________________________________________________________

Emptiness seeps in, a relentless trickle,
like death, with his unforgiving sickle.
I wished to unlive, yet at hell’s door,
Satan whispered “Living will torment you more.”

It was that one, of a thousand roses,
that pricked me with such lethal doses.
With our dying waltz, as tears clouded,
I tore his thorns out of skin that smarted.

Was it not, poison that tainted my lung?
The fumes exhaled, of his beauty I sung,
Why had it to be, two in a tragedy,
One to move on, the other with no remedy.

Did we all choose to be in love with pain,
or was it that love definitely came
With one full jug and one bottomless jar,
And the acquiescent heart for the fuller to mar.

Blogging on a sad Saturday night. With the empty room, not even Lycan by my side. Oh… sorrow. Sometimes pain hurts so much we sink into a masochistic thirst for more.

I hope you will always be happy.