This morning is marked by an anxiety attack that just won’t quit. The heart palpitations that are chocking me remind me with every painful beat of my heartbreak. I know it’s over between us. Even though for You it was barely anything, it was everything to me. I know we will never be together – I’m not THAT delusional. I know You probably hate me right now. I know You will likely always consider me a psycho and a creep. But I would still do it again. Suffering in silence is what I have been doing for far too long. No more. I have seen and experienced first hand the suffering caused by holding shit hidden deep inside and pretending in public that everything was fine. I would still write to You about my feelings for You. I did not expect an answer but I got one and it was as painful as it was likely true. You have cut off all contact and blocked me on Facebook. I do not blame You. From your point of view it was likely a creepy and an inappropriate message. But I would still do it again. As much as I am pained by it, I am not ashamed by my unrequited love for You.
It too shall pass as most things are wont to do. I will probably get over it. I will start anew. And when I do, the burden of never having admitted my feelings will not weigh heavily upon my shoulders.
My inner démiurge seems to have been satiated and anxiety has passed for now. I have admitted my “problem.” Perhaps these bouts will become less painful in the future but I know that the love that I will always carry for you in my heart will be lighter, for it will not be darkened by shame of hiding it.
Tag Archives: breakup
… And Darkness Falls. (Letter #3.)
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You never noted how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine awayThe other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head, and I cried
I don’t know what I was expecting. You came in this morning all full of energy and light. You moved like a hurricane of divine power, darting from the living room to the kitchen to get a glass of water and my inner turmoil has matched the speed of you turning into a barrage of conflicting emotions. My heart beat enough to almost break my ribs and block my larynx. You looked so beautiful and I almost fell apart because I could not hug you, could not kiss you. You laughed at one point and your face did that thing when you laugh and all I could do was choke back my tears. You looked around the place and tried on climbing shoes that my old partner forgot. You weren’t even looking at me at first. I had no right to hope that you would care. I knew you wouldn’t. You have said before that you do not dwell on things but move on. I should have taken heed long ago but I failed. And now you so clearly have moved on and I am left alone with my sorrow.
I wish, I wish… The words of regret.
I would give anything to be with you. If only it were possible to switch bodies with Him, the one you are with now. I tell myself that things would be different this time but truth is I would still be me and no amount of body switching would make me the one you want. I have to change myself, not to change into someone else!
I have to believe I will get better for otherwise there’s no point to living. It will take months, years… Who knows? Will you still be there? Will you be single. I have to believe that we might still have a chance because it gives me strength.
But now you are gone. And I still love you.
So I hung my head, and I cried…
Share my story:
Day 9. Anticipation.
In about an hour or so, She is supposed to stop by my place. I have asked her to because there are some things that I needed to tell her. Granted, that could be done via email or Facebook but I suppose I need to see her one last time. What will I say? Will I be able to hold it together? Only one way to find out…
Share my story:
Remember.
My friends tell me that I have to forget about her. They tell me that I eventually will.
But how can I forget her when she is the first thing that I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before falling asleep?
My mind always races thousand thoughts a minute.
How can I forget about her when she was the only one who made it stand still?
How can I forget someone who makes me forget I need Ritalin to function normally the rest of the time?
How can I forget her when that would mean forgetting her beautiful face? Her tenderness?
But she is no longer with me.
She no longer wants to come over and hang out WITH ME!
She no longer wants to kiss me, be with ME.
Remember. I remember it all.
But oh, how I wish I could forget.
Share my story:
Day 7. You are beautiful.
With shaky breath I look at you. Not the real you but the you in the new Facebook picture. The one you have uploaded from the trip you are taking with him. Our trip. I do not know if you’re back of if you’re still enjoying the beautiful province. Why aren’t you’re smiling though in the new picture? You look so beautiful when you do. I want to move the heavens to put a smile on your magnificent face to match the summer glee of that white summer dress you’re wearing. You have certainly moved on though, discarding me and my shattered self in the process. I wish you hadn’t. Not being able to reach across and touch your skin is suffocating my soul and all I can do is cry into the night. I love you, my dear girl.
Share my story:
Day 6. Trust.
I’m having trouble today coming up with things to say. However, keeping with the “one post per day” challenge I shall say this. Trust is important in any relationship. Even enemies trust each other to behave in a foe-like manner. But I digress. In climbing, trust is paramount. We trust each other with our lives and continued well-being so that we can feel the freedom to explore. If that trust is shaken, it is hard to get things back to the way they were. There cannot be any hidden agendas and all things must be clear and transparent, which in its turn creates an implicit feeling of a close bond. Those feelings of bonding are multiplied exponentially when the climbing relationship goes beyond catching and belaying.
One day, I will find a way to finish this post. And I still love her.
Share my story:
Day 4. Forlorn Hope. (Letter #2).
As I sit on a bench on Duluth looking at people passing me by, it is impossible not to notice all the happy couples. Undoubtedly, there are other people as well but they are mere background noise, deemed unworthy of notice by my lovesick mind. The worst thing of all, though, is that you appear everywhere. We have not spoken since that dreadful night right before you left on your trip what was happening. Since then, it has become impossible not to think about you. Someone’s fleeting smile, a look over a shoulder… You are everywhere. Even though I know you are hundreds of miles away, every time my first thought is that you have come back. The forlorn hope, but that is what my existence has been reduced to. Like a soldier of old, I am throwing self unto the breach, hoping against all reason, that the prize will wait for me at the end. But all that I have is an empty burning pit in my stomach, and an image of you everywhere and in everything. In the all too short time we were together, you have become the one thing that made my world wonderful. You were the shining bright star in my dark cold the night and now that you are gone, I feel more lost than ever before. So now I must find myself and do it for real this time. Will you still be there? Will you be waiting for me at the other end of the tunnel? You won’t. You wouldn’t. This is the most important journey of my life and I must make it alone. A longing feeling: your gentle touch reaching out for me in the dark; just breeze ruffling the hairs on my hand. I wonder if you’ll ever see these writings? Will you understand? Becoming someone you could love and be proud of will take a lot of work. But will it have been for nought for you won’t be there in the end?
A damned fool! I fell so deeply for you and you didn’t even realise it. I would give everything for your kiss; to taste the sweetness of your lips, their gentle caress on my skin. I shall remember that feeling for as long as I live.
Alone. Lost. Adrift. I take the shallow breath and tread the water. Barely able to breathe, I amble toward a direction that I hope will lead to a wait out hoping that memory of you won’t weigh me down and take me under.
Share my story:
Day 2. A Cut Too Deep. (Letter #1).
After some heavy thinking I have done in the past week or so, I have come to realisation that I have no choice but to cut you out of my life. I’m sorry it has come to that but just being friends and hanging out with was never going to be enough for me. I care for you too much to be around you without being with you both because it would be too painful for me and because I would not want to poison you with my misery.
I wish things could have turned out differently. I wish hadn’t pushed you towards the arms of another. (Definitely wish I had’t arranged for the circumstances where you two met.) I wish I could have been what you wanted me to be. I am not. Perhaps with time I could have changed, likely would have, but it is too late now and you could not wait. I wish you could have given me more of a chance; I wish you would be willing to wait… You are like an untameable mustang, a force of your own. Unwilling to settle for anything less than you deserve, you cannot be with one who isn’t what you want. There’s no blame for you in this; but the end result is all the same: we must part ways for I cannot bear for it to be otherwise. I would never presume to tell you whom you can or cannot date. But if I cannot be with you than I cannot be around you knowing that you are with someone else, seeing you with someone else, someone better.
All I ever wanted was to hold you close, to be able to say I’m yours and to call you mine. Alas, that is not to be.
I realise now that I should have been more open with you about my emotional health issues and more truthful about the cause of my idiosyncrasies. Not to mention that I should have sought professional help a long time ago. But it was easier to fool myself that I’m stronger than the depression that has been slowly suffocating me for the 20+ years. I would start new hobbies and get obsessed with them and they gave me great outlets for relief of anxiety and depression but whenever I would be forced to be by myself they would spring back up. Things became harder and harder to deal with over time. Even cleaning my room became a task of Herculean proportions. I finally have reached he point where I realise that I cannot deal with it by myself. I will seek the help. “I’ll drop the cross of self-denial,” so to speak. Regretfully for us, it is all too late. Perhaps, once I’m better we may see if there’s still something there but I will not ask you to wait. I will not be this unfair to you.
I care oh so deeply for you, my dearest, dearest girl. ‘Til better times, perhaps.
Share my story:
Day 1. A New Beginning.
This blog is to help me document my recovery from deep depression and a host of other issues as well as to help me pick up pieces of my broken heart and try to make sense of life and events.
I have been sliding down the depression cliff for some time, rationalising not seeking professional help by pretending that it was my “normal,” that it was a cultural thing. But a breakup turn my slow slide into an uncontrollable tumble. And I finally came to realise how screwed up my life really is. I made a first step: contacted a mental health clinic that came recommended by a trusted friend. I am yet to have my first appointment but decided to use this medium as a way to arrange my thoughts and feelings.
So here goes…
Forlorn Hope: A Diary Of A Broken Heart 