I’m sick of crying. Crying is so good for you. It helps release emotions.
Sometimes I feel like each tear is a tiny stitch towards mending my wounded heart. Other days, I feel as if the tears are washing away some of the pain and leave me feeling held.
The nights are hardest, when I’m all alone
Being single again after 7 years with someone is exciting at first, but the excitement wanes.
You realize that being able to date doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re in a position to do so or that you’re emotionally available.
I said I would treat this heartbreak like a death, but I craved male attention, so that didn’t work out for my one year plan of not dating.
There’s another problem: men!
Men come out of the woodwork. Men you thought were friends. Men who really were creeps in disguise.
Then there’s the other problem: men want sex. They don’t want to buy you dinner or drinks unless they get what they feel is a return on that investment. Where this entitlement comes from, I don’t know, but the older they get, the more prevalent these expectations become.
What ever happened to companionship or getting to know someone? How about not wanting to hop in the sack with every person you meet?
Do these people ever think about diseases?? Pregnancy?? Yuck!
So for now, I resign myself to hiding myself away until I’m in a place to open my heart. It’s not worth a free drink.
Sometimes it hits you, and you realize that someone promised you forever but couldn’t be there when things were hardest. For better or for worse? Love, honor and obey? Feeling broken hearted tonight.
To be rejected is one thing, but to give your word for the rest of your life, and be thrown away…
I have no more words
I can’t stand to see people fall in love on TV. To kiss, to confess their love, to have that moment of weakness when someone breaks their heart and they rely upon a friend. I actually break out in sobs of painful tears.
I remember another time, so long ago it seems, when I had someone in my life that I loved and the love was enough. No pressure for rings, to move in together. Nothing more than just being happy to be around someone you loved.
The intimacy I could share was so intense. I remember crying once, in the middle of making love, just because he said I was beautiful. Now, I’ve become accustomed to being complimented and learned it’s one way to make me feel loved, a love language. Back then, it was more about a lack of self esteem and only garnering worth through others’ perceptions of me. Now… Gosh now, everything I used to feel is so far away. I’ve come to a much healthier place of self worth through loving God, which has the greatest impact on molding my thoughts and actions for the last two years.
I learned God made me perfect, and all I can do is try to improve myself- in graciousness, in kindness, in diligence and boundaries.
Back to the intimacy…
There was a time I would get teary-eyed just sharing the intimacy of a locked gaze with a lover. Where nothing existed beyond one another for a moment in time.
I want that back someday. I want to get to a place in my life where I feel I can let the walls down and be comfortable enough around someone that I can let go completely. Now, no, not now. But someday…
Someday someone will want to hold me in their eyes. Someday
I wrote a song a long time ago. Right now it feels like it was a different lifetime ago.
There was a line, “you’d wanna hold me in your eyes” – and I cannot say when I last held someone in their eyes. But what’s more is when someone last held me in theirs.
I wish I could go back to that child-like innocence and just love purely and deeply and have it be returned.
I wish someone did “learn to know me” as the song said, someone who loved me enough to continue to pursue my heart and my attention despite life trying to get into the way.
I know that I am a prize and that I am worthy of love.
Some day there will be someone out there that sees that within me.
What I long for is the day I can trust someone with my heart again.
I’m all out of tears. I’m all out of angry. I feel like someone tapped all my emotions and I’m just a shell.
How long will I have to work on myself and wait for the pain to stop being so hard? It’s been two months since he broke my heart, I feel as if not a thing has moved forward. Like my whole life froze in time from then and I’m living in an alternate universe.
I feel tapped out. Like I have nothing left to give. I don’t know what else to say.
Life sucks when you’re broke and alone and injured and you still have responsibilities and a family to raise.
Having your daughter ask for Mommy and Daddy to just be back together and happy, having her wish we could go back to where we used to be, and she’s only four.
I can’t go home. I don’t have one anymore. I have nowhere to hang my hat or my heart. So here they sit, in an empty room, next to me. Collecting dust.
I wish I could wake up and smile.
I wish someone in this world could make me feel special, only to them.
I’m so flawed and messed up right now, but I’ve dreamed of the day that I could be happy with someone for quite some time.
I wish there was a way to be with someone that would make me feel like I was the only girl in the world for them. That I was enough.
I know I’m generous with myself. Generous with affection, attention and admiration for any of the men that have grazed my life.
I wish I could feel love. Could feel intimacy with one person. That moment where your last concern is anything else besides the person in front of you.
I want romance. My version of it, the moments like shared breath and deep eye contact. Moments so personal and revealing. Where your soul lies completely exposed and your legs are entangled like an afterthought.
For now, I wait and continue to feel only pain and betrayal.
To be discarded by a lover is deeply damaging to your self esteem and psyche. To feel like you’re the last priority to a person for years, and then awake one day to learn that you were less meaningful than 1hour and $100, that destroys you inside.
No one can be trusted. No one is worthwhile. Not one thing you can say to me right now is any consolation for how I feel.
To be the mother of the children to someone who treated you as less than the dirt under their shoe, inconceivable. Please spare me your condolences, I have had quite enough, thank you