Flame
I’ve always been the kind of girl who contradicts herself without even noticing it. Boys who fall too fast are terrifying and I push them away, because who can really know that they’re in love with me when they barely even know me? Yet, I am the girl fueled with passion and a heart that bursts with every beat as it swells with emotion. When I love, I love hard and I don’t usually notice I’ve fallen until it’s too late. See, I don’t have a problem with falling in love. It is the most magical thing that a human being can ever experience. Each step is as though you are walking on clouds and each breath brings a rush. You live and breath this person and their being consumes you. My problem is that I often tend to fall for those who will only hurt me in the end. Each time I tell myself that this time will be different, so even though my guard is constantly up, gradually it starts to slip down. I trust them and put my heart in their hands, trusting them to treat it with care and then when I’m already in too deep and I’ve let them see the most vulnerable pieces of my soul, they leave me just like each one before him. Again, find myself lying on the bathroom floor with that precious little heart in pieces. I am just a player in their game; disposable and easily replaceable.
People don’t often get to see me naked. I don’t just mean the skin and bones kind, but I mean the naked parts of my soul. It’s not that I’m the most guarded and locked up person, but people don’t often seek out that side of me. Life becomes a blur for most people, especially those I find myself falling for. Each “relationship” seems to move faster and faster, moving from strangers, to friends to more within the blink of an eye. There are so many pieces to me that people don’t even attempt to see anymore. Everything becomes about the surface, what they can see and what little knowledge they can skim and still be able to get away with “knowing” me. I don’t remember the last time someone asked me about my favorite parts of my childhood. Or about what keeps me up at night. Or why I’m so afraid to fall in love. If they did, I would probably tell them what I’ve just told you. People may think I’m just that blonde girl who likes to flirt and smiles at all the guys she’s got “on the go”, as if that’s all there is to me. Why bother asking her more anyways, right? But there is so much more to me, if only you take the time to search for it.
Like my scars. I’m covered with them, some you can see and some that you can’t. Each one has a story. The ones you can see are self explanatory. There’s the one beside my eye from when I hit my head when I was 4. I was rushed to the hospital and my mom held my hand as they stitched it back together. That’s an easy one. Then there’s the ones all over my arms and legs. Those aren’t quite as easy to explain, but know that they have their own story too. They tell the tale of a road of internal struggle but they mark me as a survivor of something greater. You may look at them and call them ugly, but I think that scars are beautiful because they show you that you have lived and survived so many things, and you can survive so many more. Then there are the scars that aren’t so blatantly easy to spot, but I promise you that they’re there. You can see them in my eyes when I look away as he walks past, knowing I wasn’t good enough. You can hear it in my songs where I put my pain on the page to try and relieve some of the hurt. You can also see it in my actions, when I push away anyone who gets too close to me, for fear that they’ll be the next one in the progression of heart breakers. These are the scars on my heart. More precisely, they are the burns from the flame that is the way I love. I don’t know how to love half way; when I love, it’s with a fiery flame that consumes all it touches, including myself.
Yet, I am still here; living, breathing, trying. You cannot give up on love just because you have had your heart broken my boys who were not worthy of your passion. It is like someone who has asthma and gives up on air just because they have had a few asthma attacks. You are powerful and beautiful and one day you will meet someone who has been searching their entire life to find you. Letting them in will be that first breath of fresh air after the storm passes, and loving them will be like fireflies, the right kind of fire that is soft and beautiful, and will never harm you. Every day I try to keep holding out for this person, because I know although there may be many heart breakers who come through my doors, each one will teach me a lesson and that is how to appreciate the right person when they come. I will not let a few bad experiences define me, instead I will let them teach me.
I am delicate, so treat my heart with care.
