72

 

72

It has been 72 hours and my parents yell at me to try and find my grip on reality but I can’t even seem to find myself in this weird state of consciousness.

I hate that they don’t understand how hard I’m trying to act like everything is fine; I hate that I sometimes will find myself clawing at my chest because a wave of emptiness will resonate in my body when I least expect it. I hate the sympathetic gaze I get now when people ask how I’m doing and I have to explain what happened–I hate that I’m a sob story.

I despise the way my brain is now wired to relate everything I once loved back to you, leaving a salty aftertaste in my mouth as I try to push back down the bile in my throat. Everything is too vibrant now, people are moving too fast around me and I feel myself feigning energy to stay above the noise.

It has been 72 hours and I have only slept 10 hours total; I stay up thinking that you’ll need me even though I know you don’t. I think I loved you, and I hate that part of myself. I hate that I’m making my friends worry and frustrate myself because I know that telling them how I feel just makes things worst.

And they tell me to cry. Everyone keeps telling me to cry, and I want to–but I can’t. I get close to falling apart but something stops me and it leaves me gasping for air, as if prolonging this is my punishment.

I’ve been told by everyone around me that it takes time–I don’t have that luxury anymore. Time is no longer an antidote but rather a looming darkness that reminds me how broken I have become in such a short about of time. It has been 3 days. 72 hours. 4,320 minutes. 259,200 seconds. In that short amount of time, I became numb again.

-onegirl

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first.

first

I think there is a twisted beauty in a person’s first heartbreak. The cliche angst filled words coming from a teenage mind is familiar in the sense that we expect it; we’ve grown accustomed to the toxic metaphors and cheap similes that fill a tear stained keyboard or piece of paper. But, as I sit here writing my very own prose–I cannot find this twisted beauty anywhere. Because no matter how intricate and detailed you try to make it sound, it doesn’t prepare you for the heavy chest and shortening of breath. Nothing prepares you for this ache that resides in every inch of your body.

You hurt me. Plain and simple, no elaborate description behind it. You lied to me, you lied to her, you lied to everyone; the one thing that plays over and over in my mind is the fact that in 24 hours it all changed. We went from laughing in my living room, to me being told that the whole time you were with me–you were thinking of her.

And you know what hurts even more? I thought that she was the “other girl” when the whole fucking time it was me. You promised her the moon and stars and simply recycled the same leftover lines for me–oh a cliche metaphor, how original of me. But, that’s what you did; you gave her “I love you’s” and me, “someday”.

But what I really need from you is closure. I need you to explain why you lied when I told you that night in a hushed whisper that that was my greatest fear, to have someone make so many promises but deny making them at all. I need to know why you looked at me the way you did and made me feel like I had the galaxy spinning on my fingertips. I need to know why you let me waste a word count filled with the thoughts that floated around in my head about you.

I know she is getting these answers from you, I know that right now–at this very minute– you are calling her your “baby girl” and begging for her to give you another chance. I know you’re calling me the “desperate one” and lying right to her, and maybe she’ll believe you. For her sake, I hope she doesn’t.

I had to be the bigger person though didn’t I? Instead of making you apologize 100 times like she is, I simply forgave but I will never forget. Well, maybe not never because as much as this pain feels like it will last forever I know that someday it will stop. So, I hope you find what you’re looking for. I’m going to take it one day at a time and find what I’m looking for as well.

 

 

 

 

Update on Exodus: I haven’t posted anything new because guess what? I’m in the works of converting it into a short film for you guys! Really excited! As you can see ¬†from this post, things didn’t work out–it hurts a ton but I’m going to make it though. Happy reading¬†

-One girl