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tales of something simple - broken hearts

i believe

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

all types of chaos

a moment of insanity when i was 17 and thought my life was over

Maybe we never truly know ourselves until the end of a relationship.  Maybe we never truly know each other until the last hurtful words, the last long silences, and the final closure curtain has closed.  We never give ourselves, or each other, enough credit for having the capability to love, and to betray.

We lie to ourselves.  We lie to each other.  We think that it doesn’t sting as much that way.  But it does.  When we aren’t honest with ourselves, we are never honest with one another.  When we don’t know what we want, we throw our hands in the air.  When we don’t know what to do, we pick the road most do travel.  When it gets too hard, we question every piece of happiness we have.  Maybe some of us would rather be unhappy.

We often trick ourselves into thinking the most painful half truths.  We think that because a history, a past together exists, that we must be invincible.  We think that because we hold on with all of our strength, a relationship can only be salvageable.  We think that if we say enough, if we do enough, if we drive the extra miles, we will convince ourselves, we will convince each other that it will never be the same with anyone else.  We want so badly to believe that we are the problem, and that we can fix it.  We can fix everything; until everything is broken, and you don’t know what to fix first.

I never thought the end of a relationship really occurred until it was said out loud.  As it turns out, I was wrong.  Love opens our eyes to all the good, and blinds us from all the signs.  We never think that it will happen to us; that we will not be the one’s that are left emotionally, years, months, weeks, or days, before the rest of the leaving even starts.  We refuse to believe the truth that has stared us in the face for a long time: it’s over.

And then we wonder when it happened.  We wonder when the kisses were delivered with only half meaning.  We wonder when the doubt began.  We wonder if he thought of her as he lay in bed next to us.  We wonder when it all changed, and instead of working together, we began working against each other without even knowing it.  Well, maybe one of you knew it.   We wonder what the other person was thinking all along.  And not until all the missing pieces come together, do we finally accept what it is that has happened.  Someone stopped loving you, and forgot to give you the news.

Should we have seen it coming?  Should we have known?  Would it have been different had we opened our eyes?  Maybe we trusted too much.  Maybe we pushed too hard.  Maybe we wanted more.  Maybe we sacrificed more than we should have.  Maybe we let the other person get away with exactly what they wanted.  And what are we left behind with?

We will spend our lives, going through relationships that will make us question where we went wrong.  We will point the finger at our own insecurities, our own idiosyncrasies.   We will beg for the truth until our voice is hoarse, our throats burn, our hearts bleed.  We will ask for answers that may never truly be given.  We will sit there, with tears spilled from our tired eyes and onto our already wet cheeks, pleading to understand.  We will try to be strong when all we feel is weak.  We will wish for the other person to see it through our eyes for one last time, and we break, when we find out that they won’t.

At the end of the hour, at the end of the last hopeless conversation, at the end of the driveway where you stand holding onto the body of the person you have discovered night after night, you realize what it’s really about.  Not everyone sees it.  Not everyone will understand.  Some might say it was the other girl.  Some might say it was fear.  Some might say it was time.  Some might say she wanted too much.  Some might say he wasn’t ready.

Whether we know it or not, what each of us really wants in the end is for someone to love us on the same level. Because it hurts to be the lesser loved one, and because it hurts when you are the better loved half.

We’ll always have at least forty miles of road stretching out in front of us.  And no matter what you do, it will always be there.  Last exit before the toll bridge to Pennsylvania—broken hearts leave for free.

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