Tag Archives: pain

Subjugated.

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I think everyone has contemplated the intricate allure of death, if not many, at least once in their lives. We first enter this world, like a silken cloth, free from marring, from pollutants, from desecration. As we age, we start to grow. The growth of our physique may give our age away, but this aesthetic form; is just a mere facade, is it not?

At different phases of life, we birth many desires; some strange, some childish, some ridiculous. But in most phases of our life, we crave love.

That is one thing humans will never stop wanting. 

I reminisce sometimes, with a tinge of abhorrence, and pangs of disgust the one boy in my life that I spent 2 years of my life thinking he was what love really was about.

How wrong was I?

I am sure you have felt this before, your palms sweating, heart racing when the phone rings with a text from him. You schedule your every day around his ups and abouts, keeping time free and skipping your meals just to wait for his casual “Wanna meet for dinner?” You talk relentlessly to your friends about him, how cute he’d look in this 500$ shirt you just bought for him, and spend your days thinking of how to doll up better so he can finally say “you look nice.” (But obviously i never had the luxury to hear that from him.)

I have chased that guy, not only in a bid to get together with him, but also literally. Chased him down the streets publicly calling his name, tears strewn amok my cheeks, begging him to stop, but hell I wasn’t much of a runner but I sure was determined as fuck. What was I even chasing him for? What was I sorry about? Nothing. Evidently, I was sorry because that’s what he wanted to hear. I was chasing him because that was what he wanted to see.

My sister brought his name up again once during dinner days ago. She was laughing and joking about how amusing it is when I, the pathetic girl so madly in “love” with him, was mopping the floor with tears wetting the ground faster than the mop could do its work. I can, at that point, understood from her point of view, how comical it was. But the girl I once was, was so remotely shattered it felt like I died so many times over.

I remember that day, he had blocked me on all media. And back in those days there WEREN’T many platforms you could talk to someone on. He wanted a break up, for the millionth time, because he was in army and he has gotten bored of this plain jane with a flat chest who loved him so much, she gave him everything. With nothing left to offer.

The bed… felt like a coffin, with the ceiling closing in onto me. The computer was the devil’s advocate, whispering for me to do something crazy. And the window….. let’s not even go there.

So I tried to busy myself. I grabbed the mop and started cleaning like crazy. But this sadness it just wouldn’t leave me. And it felt like all purpose of living, all purpose of ME, myself, has forsaken me. If I could cry my heart out, that must have been that day I finally see how mine looks like.

But fast forward to 7 years till today, I finally realized that wasn’t love. I let him hang around even though he has “broken up” with me just because he wanted a quick outlet for sexual pleasures while I stupidly thought the physical contact could bring us closer on the emotional plane where he clearly didn’t want to co exist with me in.

If you are reading this and you find yourself in a similar situation, know your worth. It may be hard for you to leave, I tried a thousand times. But when he leaves, death is never the option.

Let me tell you what love is. Love is when you hold him close, for the 10000th time, but your heart doesn’t flutter. It calms. 

 

 

Keep fighting.

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.