He left you.
This time for good.
And now you’re left with your heart torn to shreds, trying to force yourself to let go of all the hurt, even if you never hear the words, “I’m sorry.”
Two words you deserve.
Two words you have to be okay with never hearing.
You’re mind is at war because you have to find peace in this chaos that you’ve created for yourself.
So now you’re left, trying to mend a wound that’s never been healed. A wound that’s just been bandaged up. Hidden. So that you can get back in the dating game.
Without your broken heart being revealed.
You know you need time to grieve, but you keep trying to figure out when it all will end. When will the steady stream of tears stop falling down your face? You wonder when the thoughts of violence will stop creeping in your mind, because as of right now, hurting him seems like the only way to make you feel good. The only answer.
And so you pray.
Obviously not hard enough.
Still too angry, too bitter, too hurt to let it all go. You beg God to take your heavy burden away, so you can move on, as fast as he managed to do and find you someone new so that you don’t feel left behind from all the men who found someone else and gave her a chance.
You have to stop holding on to a burden that’s too heavy to bear. A burden that’s eating away at your soul.
Rotting it away.
One memory at a time.
Never realizing that you and him never really had a chance. That the memories were just an illusion of what you wished you were.
An illusion.
That brought you to the brink of insanity because you created a world of “forever” that never existed.
You lost a man that you never had.
There were never any good times, just lies that you wished were true because you couldn’t stand the thought of never meaning anything more to him than you did.
A piece of pussy.
Was all you were.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
And the reality of that kills a piece of your soul that you may never get back. You told him that you loved him, but what you loved was the image of what you wished love was.
But what you had was never love.
Never a friendship.
Just years of a rotted tree that you refused to cut down just in case it grew a piece of fruit.
And now you want to pretend as though he never existed. Like a total stranger. Because that’s what you’ve become.
Because that’s what you’ve always been.
Forgiveness.
Is not for the faint at heart, but for the strong who are at their weakest.
A test.
Of your faith, that if right now were to be compared to a mustard seed, would fail.
I know it’s easier said than done, but in order to keep your sanity…
Forgive.
Get over it.
And move on.
Your welcome,
Tiph
