Angst

I don’t know what to do with these broken parts of me…

I know everyone holds a secret, a yearning, a pain that just won’t go away, a depth that not everyone else can see, a multitude of contrast existing on the plane that is the mind.

I remember the color of the eyes, the one that reflected ecstacy and pleasure. Eyes I thought saw me but were merely looking through me.

I remember the now empty words, heavy promises said lightly because there was never an intention to fulfil them.

I remember all the plans for tomorrow, the one that’ll never come for us because on this side of tomorrow I am alone with all the questions on what went wrong.

I remember the pain and pang of loneliness when what I needed most was a shoulder to lean on, yours precisely. I remember shattering from the weight of the world but being buried by the silence of your absence.

I remember the pain that your cowardice brought, the selfish assembly of your desires and what that cost me eventually.

I remember all the statements that started with “I love you but…”

Te queiro?

When does love ever fade? how is love full of duplicity? how can it lack respect?

Isn’t love patient and kind? Where was kindness when I was in pain? Pain that you had solace for but withheld because you knew that you were going to leave anyway.

Now, if I hear “I love you” I will always ask how? How do you love me with selfishness or sacrifice?

I remember how my heart skipped at the thought of you…not the good kind, the one that precedes a sharp intake of breath to prepare for the burrowing sorrow that is to come for my heart. The kind of heart skip that makes one pray to forget all the paths that lead to finding each other.

I remember how my strength was the very thing you pitted against me. How you hoped to find grace in my anguish, how you wanted my comfort for the pain you caused.

How could you say I love you and yet manage to break every mending part of my soul, the doubt you created, and the sweet memories you exchanged with teary rimmed eyes from crack of dawn till dusk, sudden potent outburst of hurt that come undone at odd times.

Should I ever love again, I hope I can fit all these broken pieces in the whole. I hope I won’t love from a divide watching all the parts that can’t be restored, wondering if I lost my wonder in the other half.

Maybe broken crayons still color, maybe time will heal the broken parts. Maybe the courage to embrace love will come again…but for now I mourn every part of me that can’t smile completely, that laughs with a touch of sadness, the wandering eyes that keep watching the door that you left ajar after becoming a ghost, making me question if all the memories were a vision from nightmare.

I mourn the parts of me that became numb from the pain. The parts of me that hated the strength I needed to walk through the furnace of self loathe and contempt.

This is angst…

It’s the broken version of all the parts that tried to wield light from the dark.

Yet, I will rise… I know, but, now I grief the loss of some parts of my soul…

This post is dedicated to anyone going through moments of excruciating agony that even words can’t conceive.

Lovingly,

Dcconoissuer.