getting over

Duele.

It doesn’t hurt, I am okay.
No duele.

Jump to your feet.
Dust yourself off.
Pretend it doesn’t hurt.  While the tears are forming at the corners of my eyes.

No duele. No pasa nada.
It doesn’t hurt, everything will be okay.

Be strong. Fuerte. I am bigger than my cuts and my scrapes. Bigger then my falls and failures. Bigger then the embarrassment of the hurt I feel inside.

It doesn’t hurt, no duele.

It hurts. Straight to the core. In the deeper depths of my soul. I could paint the wound any color, but it never stops hurting. How strong am I suppose to be? How strong am I suppose to allow the world to see?

Levantate. No pasa nada. Pero todo duele.

Everything hurts. From my skin to my bones to the very depths of my soul. I have been programmed to make every scrape disappear. Every broken blood vessel nonexistent. But it hurts. It hurts every inch of my skin and I am too afraid to say so. I was brought up to believe that if you can’t see pain, the pain doesn’t exist. Cover up every cut, bandage every bruise and broken bone. If it’s not there, it doesn’t exist.

I will lie through my teeth. Clinching my fists to stop the tears from forming.

It doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t hurt anymore.

No duele tanto. Pero, duele suficiente.

 

In the lonely hour.

I lie awake between when the hours turn from PM to AM, thinking, wondering, pondering, inviting. All these thoughts in all their splendored glory. These images of reality mixed in with make believe. Heroes, saints, villains and sinners, everywhere and in-between. When you feel that hope has lost, you reach out for a connection. Reach out to feel something, anything from this wretched feeling that you have consumed yourself with. It aches in your soul straight through to your heart. From the moment you tap your fingertips against your chest, waiting for something to revive you from this feeling.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, That we all go through

There are things you do when you’re lonely that you would never do with a sane mind. Your mind and judgement turn off, you roam the world as an insane person would. You enclose yourself to all this loneliness. Believing the wrong people, trusting the sinners, and knowing very well that every last bit of this is wrong. Its this hurt that is eating up your insides. This sickening pain that you want to drown out to feel whole again. You trust these people because you have nothing left to give. At any given moment, someone will come save your from yourself. Save you from these feelings that you’ve become so clouded with. These illusions that letting the right one in would be your salvation. Bring forth the one person that will save me from this loneliness. Bring forth the person that will in turn save me from myself.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, I need you

All it takes is one person to save us from ourselves. One person to turn all the dark clouds into sunlight that illuminates our path to salvation. We all need a little help sometimes. One person to dry the tears and sweep us off our feet. We believe in words before we believe in actions. All it takes is 3 words and 8 letters to bring you back to life. 3 words and 8 letters to show that you mean something to someone. You could take everything away from my life. Take away all the material things. Take away all the glamour of this life. The only thing that I want in this life is someone to take away all this loneliness. All I need is you, not someone like you.

When there’s a wistful silence, In an empty room,
These other voice’s, They don’t cut through,
In the lonely hour, I need you

I’ve spent nights believing in this knight that would come and save me from myself. That would wipe away the tears from the lovers prior and erase all the scars from my own self destruction. I’ve waited and in return let these legions of broken people consume my time and affection. It’s not love because love wouldn’t hurt this much. Love wouldn’t allow this feeling to continue to last. I just need this pain to stop this hurt inside my heart. Stop this ache that I feel in my chest, deep down to my soul. I can’t keep reaching out to a person that doesn’t exist. Realizing that I don’t need anyone to save me from myself. I just need to rely on me. In this lonely hour, I can’t help myself. In the lonely hour, I need you.

I need you.

6/14/2011

And I’m still hurting.

Heartbreak has a way of changing a person. It breaks down every vulnerability and locks it away under a dark heart of emotion. Lessons learned and the reality of letting go. You begin to build up these walls with the bricks that have been thrown at you. It was always your fault. Your fault in believing in the wrong people. Your fault in choosing the wrong person. Your fault in every argument, in every tear drop, in every vulnerability you’ve ever felt.

Always your fault.

Covered with scars I did nothing to earn.

After a year it’s suppose to be different. You’re suppose to feel better. It’s so easy for others to move on to bigger, better, brighter, and beautiful things. Still you sit with your sadness and bitterness. I always envied the people who can jump from people to people. All to mask their sadness of being alone. Meanwhile, I wallowed in my darkness and sadness. I allowed these feelings to consume me as my own coat of bad failures. Allowing the bitterness to eat away at the layers of goodness I had left. I hate when people expect you to wake up one day and stop loving someone. That falling out of love is just as easy as falling in love, it’s not. It breaks even more then putting your heart into someone else’s hands. Because everyone else is so good with forgetting and moving on. Placing someone else’s face in the frame to make up for their losses. But it hurts even more than before.

A year goes by and you still live with the bitterness and sadness. A year goes by and you find yourself still hurting worse than before. Because everything was always your fault. No matter how many people you kiss, how many people you say goodnight to, they never replace what broke you. Broken is what you feel through the night, until the sun comes up. Its through the day that you can suppress the hurt, but its at night when you’re alone with your thoughts that it all comes back. You pretend to move on and go through the motions. You pretend just as well as the others. Everyone else is just fine and still you sit with your words and broken promises. Promises of a better life and new beginnings. Promises that at the end of the day, everything will be better for you.

What about lies?
What about things that you swore to be true?

It’s days like these that I can’t help but wish you would feel an ounce of what I felt. That your heart would rot and break into a thousand miserable pieces. That someone would come along and blame you for everything that is wrong. The 1 finger that you graciously pointed at me, you’d find 3 more pointed directly at you. In so many ways, I just wished that you would feel every single human emotion that I felt. If there was anything that I wanted from you, I just wished to have my heart back. But getting my heart back wouldn’t change anything. It would only continue to hurt.

Eventually everything will change. One day, I’ll fall in love again and this will start all over. Being broken doesn’t last forever, maybe someday this will all be just a distant memory. At this current time, and at this current state, it still hurts. No matter what I say, I am still hurting.

and I’m still hurting.

11/15/2011