I hope the way they treated your love haunts them forever. The way you poured your soul into them, the way you turned every darkness they had into light. The way you kissed their forehead when they were in pain and supported them through the most terrible times of their lives. May they long for you in the moments when they are looking for someone who loves them, who understands them, and can find no one who does it so well as you.
I hope the way they let you go haunts them forever. You deserved better because you stayed up night after night to speak to them when they were in pain, travelled miles for them just to see them because they needed you that day. You deserved better from someone you trusted with your heart, who demanded your surrender and then left you for someone else, someone who they said was better. May their eyes always look away in shame when someone mentions your name.
I hope that one day their ghost leaves your dreams and you aren’t haunted by them forever. May your soul heal from the wounds they inflicted callously by treating your love like it meant nothing, ever. Repeat to yourself every night before you fall into that fitful sleep:
“I deserved better than this. And I will love again.”
Because that is the truth, darling. That is the purest truth about you. You deserve someone who treats your love like it is more precious than anything else in the world. You deserve someone who looks at your effort and considers themselves fortunate for having someone who cares so much in their world.
I hope that you forget the way they treated you and someone else treats you a thousand times better. Your ability to love has been tested with fire and you may be burned, but you have come out alive despite all your tears. Your heart has been broken, but it is strong enough to mend. You have fallen in love before and you will fall in love again.
May the next person you fall in love with, treasure your heart the way it deserves and never breaks it or rips it at the seems. I hope the next person you love gives you all the respect, the love and the truth that you need.
You’re going to need a person in your life who makes you smile even when you’re mad. Who knows your heart like the back of her hand and calls you out on your bullshit. Who says, “screw him,” and “I love you,” and, “you got this,” and really means it. Late nights of long phone calls and laughing until your ribs hurt. You need a person who sees you for what you can be, what you will be, and never lets you be any less. A weirdo, preferably. Who yells your name across street just to embarrass you. Who holds you when he breaks your heart and keeps you strong when he comes crawling back. Who tells the truth when she talks about life and makes you feel a little less alone. A person who is beyond words, beyond thanks, beyond what you could have asked for. Find this person. Trust me. You’re going to need her.
a thank you to my best friend, who is all of this and more
Maybe other people dont know that the difference between being tired and depression is that being tired is something you feel like you can fix. You can nap away tired, drink enough water and your sleepiness evaporates, exercise enough and your energy comes back. You wake up on sunny days and feel rested.
But depression feels endless. A tired that only gets worse, not better. You can sleep in or sleep forever, it wouldn’t matter. You sip coffee and do yoga and turn in homework and none of it matters. You’re tired while doing everything, even the things you want to be awake for. It drags on you. Like cinder blocks through the floor.
I have always liked my people a bit damaged. A bit rough around the edges. A bit difficult to stereotype. A bit stranger than the normal crowd. I like people whose eyes tell stories and whose smiles have fought through wars. If you’re perfect, chances are, we aren’t going to get on. If you’re one of the cool kids, chances are, you won’t like me. You see, what I want is authentic. What I want to see is your purity, I want to see the way you wear your scars, I want to see how brave you are with your vulnerability, how emotionally naked do you let the world see you. Your damage may not be beautiful, but it has made you exquisite. It makes you original, different - and one of my kind of people because people like you are the most incredible things about this world.
i know that i’m still young. he isn’t my first love nor will he be my last. but it still hurts, you know? when you give someone all of you, share your secrets and dreams with them, and pour your heart out to them. there is no going back. i can’t just undo things. i can’t just take back everything i’ve ever said and felt. i can’t just make them disappear and delete them from my memory. that’s not how it works. a part of them will always be in my heart. i wish i could kill that part, but i can’t kill it anymore without killing myself a little too.
i watch it play out on my facebook feed. a cutesy video plays about a wife and a husband texting each other. she bothers him with messages, he almost types “fuck off bitch” but says something nice instead. in this video, the wife is at fault. he doesn’t listen to her, he doesn’t come home, he ignores her messages. she’s a crazy bitch for getting mad at him.
my teacher asked us why marriage rates are going down. what do i know. i see instagram posts where a girl makes a joke about chloroforming a boy and i don’t find it funny. i see plenty of people who are perfectly happy and i see just as many who are broken, deeply. i see boys all the time unable to meet their girlfriend halfway - stuck, somehow, wanting to be open but knowing he can’t be. there’s a theory that the reason so many women are unhappy is that women have multiple deeply intimate relationships in their friend groups while men only have a partner. isn’t that sad. isn’t it strange.
the girl i knew in high school says “omfg this is me and u dan”. she’s talking about a post where married couples want to kill each other. my mother once asked me why i am so scared of touching. why the first time people show affection is the same time i start running. the comedian onstage uses his wife as a trampoline. all around me, people are laughing. the trouble is that jokes always have a bit of truth in them. i almost text him “haven’t heard from you in a while” but instead i turn off my phone.
there’s a lot of things i don’t understand, i guess. bachelor parties where everyone gets wrecked to celebrate his last days of “freedom”. the idea men are giving up so much to be with just one woman. the idea that a woman who is showing toxic behavior is just a bitch, and not a serious threat. what do i know. sometimes it makes me sick. when i was little i believed in love.
but why do people constantly equate nightmares with marriage?