Never Felt So Broken And Whole At The Same Time.

It always seemed so irrelevant to me the sense of heartbreak because I never truly felt love myself until recently. The type of love that puts yourself second, the type of love you sensed when you looked into someone’s eyes. I thought love was just a figure of speech, and until I felt heartbreak- it seemed just like a figment of the imagination, or rather a word used to describe a sense of loneliness. But let me tell you, this is more than a sense of loneliness. This is an intense agonizing feeling of remorse for ever letting my heart be touched. And somehow this feeling doesn’t seem to go away. It’s like the idea of being loved is something that is mistaken for love itself, and is a dangerous, destructive path to cross.

Loving the idea of love only leaves those in bed wondering what they are feeling, counting time by the milliseconds and leaving agonizing, unrepairable scars on one’s heart. It leaves you questioning if you have anything left to give, or if you gave it all to those around you- or to that one person you called, yours. It tears your heart and contorts it in ways that you weren’t even aware existed.

Despite the discomfort and despite the grief, it brings you to heights that you are seeing with new eyes. You are loving, you are alive, you realize what it is that you are capable of giving and even though it was never given to you, you can give and give and give until your heart is bled dry and still continue to make others happy without satisfying yourself.