They say it’s a broken heart. But I hurt in my whole body. – Blair Waldorf, Gossip Girl
Disclaimer: I have noticed a surge in checks of my posts whenever I write topics about being brokenhearted and being hurt. While this post today is about having a heart broken, this does not apply to the author’s state. Read further at your own risk of pseudo depression. – S
Dear (Insert name of ex lover here),
It’s past seven in the morning and I have been awake since last 8 in the evening where I spent the entire 12 hours on sleep after I cried and cried bucketful of tears.
My mind is in rambles, I cannot figure out any clear and precise thoughts. Maybe, this is my brain’s self defense to acknowledge that I am on my way to a severe depression or perhaps, I am just at the point of denial that we are actually over.
The entire time that we have been arguing put me into a series of highs and lows. I was high in anger, and extreme frustration and low moments when I realized that I am about to lose you in the process of bitter bickering.
You accused me of so many things. Things, I believed that you, yourself does not believe. You have known me quiet well, even though it took you some time to break the walls of my indifference and nonchalance to your affections. I know that you knew me too well, from my expressions, to my reactions, to my responses and I know that you have memorized me like the back of your calloused hand.
We spent so much time pushing and pulling each other. You, having all the energy to push me away with all your accusations, and your stubborn mind set to believe what you thought was right, and me, pulling you closer to me by my endless phone calls to reconcile, countless messages to explain and a thousand desperate attempts to hold you closer and never let go.
In the end, you coldly closed the doors at my face, at the moment where I plead for you to not let go.
Let me tell you how does that feel. The moment you said that I lost you and with all the other hurtful words you have said, I felt my heart was in the hand of a giant person with big hands, crushing it mercilessly and gleefully watching the blood ooze out from its crevices. I felt my ribs constrict as I held the urge to cry in the middle of the coffee shop. I literally felt my heart being stabbed with a cold knife. And they say it’s a broken heart, but truth is, I hurt in my whole body. I felt the unexplainable pain, from all parts of my body.
As I numbly took the cab back to my place, my fingers were shaking while I struggled between the need to cry so hard and my need to open my door. I cried in my bed, with my cries similar to that of a wolf howling to the moon for a lost lover. I did not think for the moment, I just cried and cried. I do not know what I was crying for. Maybe, I cried because I lost you. Or maybe because the pain was to intense to bear. Or maybe because we were already over. Or maybe because my fear of imminent loss finally materialized. I did not know for how long I cried. I just realized that I woke up numbed, with the clock that says I had overslept for more than 12 hours, and the unspeakable sadness that overtook me as I ponder on what to do with my waking hours.
My waking hours is miserable. I always end in state of blank stares, and bouts of hunger that I refused to acknowledge. I spent the entire time stalking your accounts, feeling my heart skip a beat each time I see you online. I know, it’s pathetic. And I spend a quarter of my time today researching Google on topics like “How to Move On”, “How to get over a Break Up”, “How to Let Go of a Failed Love”. They inspired me for a couple of seconds, and then I revert back to feeling so sad and miserable and wanting to start a conversation again.
I know, you may laugh at this. And I know that you think this is pathetic. I know you are having a good time with your friends right now, wherever you are. As I wallow here in my heartaches, trying to put into words the pain that I felt, I am also praying for anybody to take this pain away.
I am aware this may take me long. I mean, after all, I did love you. And I felt that I had this all-consuming, intense love for you. But, I also know that in due course, I will get over you. After all, nobody really dies of heartbreak, except if they chose to.
So, at 7:39 in the morning, I am desperate for sleep. My brain is actually teasing me. I think of you more. And I have this intense urge to stalk you again. But, I have this tiny mental caution that forces me to stop otherwise. After all, all the efforts that I did for us were futile. Should a message telling you that I miss you will work? I guess not.
But let me tell you one thing, I lost you for your stubbornness. But you lost me for all wrong reasons. I will never regret anything, because all through out, I really did try. And you also did your damn best – to push and push until it came to a kick in the face.
Until how long shall I be in this sleepless state? Only time will tell. But, ahhh. Let me take that vodka. It might knock me to slumber. Sure does, all the time.
Hurt, still in love and miserable but will eventually move on,
(Your name here)