(I wrote this late last night)
Over the last two weeks, I’ve cried more than I have over the last two months. That makes me sad, except the knowledge that for most of these crying episodes, I was around people that could help me. I’m proud of myself for that.
When you’ve been cheated on, no matter if you don’t blame the person, no matter how happy you are for them – it still feels like you’re getting repeatedly smashed in the heart by a broken do-not-disturb sign, which obviously failed at keeping uou the shitty emotions. Perhaps I should be grateful for it, because if I’d have blocked it out like I did my last heartbreak, I know it would have been ten times worse.
In case you didn’t know, I went to Paris in the half term – read this post for more details. Although there were many good times, there were also some horrendous times, and I’m going to explain them to you because it wasn’t all laughter and happiness, at all.
I made a promise to S, when we spoke before Paris, that if I felt miserable I’d find someone. Whether that be him, someone like L or Violet, or even a staff member – just that I’d find someone so that I wasn’t alone. He knows how I get, that sometimes I’ll shut away and not talk because I don’t want to be a drain on anyone. For the most part, I kept that promise, remembering it when my heart hurt so badly that I wanted to break all of my fingers.
I cannot describe to you just how much emotional pain I was in when I saw – heard – them together. Though I was expecting it, preparing myself for it, nothing can prepare you for the sting, the gut-wrenching fear when you realise it’s entirely over. I felt second, terrible, because they spoke with such ease and laughed and I asked myself, “Could you EVER be like that? Could you speak like that, no, because you’re not funny and you’re just trying too hard.” And I dealt with it, until I literally couldn’t.
Crying on people makes me feel bad for them, even though I find it easier to get the tears out. I’ve always had a problem with putting myself first, because I’m just not able to do anything without asking how the other person feels, if THEY are okay, and apologising. Constantly. I said sorry when I lost my cane and cried on S, and for all the other times. I said sorry – or thought it over and over – whenever I accidentally made a pointed/despairing remark.
He has been so lovely, like you wouldn’t imagine. Because he knows me so well, he can predict how I’ll be, how much of a wreck I am. He didn’t make me feel stupid for crying, and oh for fuck’s sake here come the tears again. When I remember we’ve broken up, that nothing can be the same like THAT again, tears come spilling out of my eyes like they’re waterfalls; I know he’ll always be there for me in a friend capacity but god I just can’t.
On the first night, I cried a little on Violet, when we stayed in the first hotel. She was my constant support through all of it, and when we were actually IN Paris, we were in the boys’ room. She went out, I followed a few minutes later, and she found me. After that, I cried so much that my eyes hurt, and I told her exactly how broken I feel, my voice echoing too loud in the corridor. It had got too much, with the constant reminders, me feeling trapped and lonely and SO damn awful because I’ve been replaced, utterly, and what can I do?
That Thursday was when we went to the Eiffel Tower. Over 100 metres up, on the second floor, we stopped. S and Pansy were on the section below, I stared down at the nothingness I could see and let one tear fall. I knew that they would be having a good time, that it would be special for them because it’s Paris and it’s romantic, and all I could think about was the world away from that which I felt: I whispered to Violet, “It’s funny that Paris is the city of love, and yet my heart’s completely broken.” Others went as they came up, going to the other side of the tower – not on purpose – and that was when I sobbed my eyes out on the bloody Eiffel Tower.
That was also when John, a volunteer, found me. My tears were falling over the edge, in an oddly poetic way, and I could feel my heart bruising and shattering all over again: when I think about it, it makes me feel cold. Just remembering me standing, whispering “Mon cœur est brisée” and emitting these broken-sounding gasps that I didn’t know I could produce. They, I was pretty sure, would remember that day as something so happy, for them, when I would remember it as the day where I felt the most separated from anything. John came up to me and I told him something of what I was feeling – the obvious, that you could see in how they close they were, and the expression on my face. Nothing he couldn’t work out on his own, if he tried, and I cried whilst leaning on his shoulder and non-staring out at the air because that was all I could do. He walked with me in the tower, talking, telling me that one day I’d be okay even if that day wasn’t today.
I think that the worst crying episode I had, not counting one of the ones with S, was with Violet, her boyfriend and L. It properly hit me then what had happened, gripping L’s hand so hard I thought I’d break it, as I whispered “I’ve been cheated on, I’ve been CHEATED ON, fuck it hurts.” Because it did, and does, and sometimes I want to scream from it. I couldn’t get many words out through my tears, as I told them how empty I felt.
When it boils down to it, I’m not okay. Today, it kept on sinking in: that they’d be at school together and I wouldn’t be, that I was there helpless. I can do NOTHING. You can’t help someone’s feelings, and if they’re happy then I’m going to be happy: they deserve it. I don’t know how long it’ll take, and I’m half-crying again because I just want the pain to fucking STOP. I hate feeling like this, like my heart’s folding in on itself, like my throat’s choking me, and it makes it worse because all I want is for people to smile with each other.
I spoke to Pansy a lot. Though we don’t see each other often, I view her as a close friend, because she’s never been awful to me and she’s such a good person. The second night, we stayed up until 1:30 and talked. The next night, we stayed up until 3: I told her about Ash and remembered just why I value her. Originally, I wasn’t going to speak to her because I was much too scared, but by the second day I knew I needed to – for both her and my sake. She may not understand my pain, but she tried and that’s all that matters.
Then again, I don’t think anybody can truly understand anyone else’s pain. At the moment, the following has built up into a howling crescendo, so that in my last lesson today I felt weak and so sad that I wanted to freeze.
• I feel like I’m not good enough
• That I was NEVER good enough
• I can’t think about anyone else without wanting to disappear
• I’m asking myself why, just WHY
• You never know you’re capable of doing something until you do it, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing
• This may not be a definitive END but it’s the end of one thing and the start of another, for him
• People keep saying things that are seriously toxic to me
• I can’t forget my feelings for him
• His feelings for me are fading, and those for her are growing and I’m so glad of that, because right now he doesn’t need confusion
• He DID like me but it’s all ended now and I have to deal with it
• I’m crying again, little tears
I have strong feelings for him and that kills me. I feel as if I’m breaking, one brick at a time, and that I’m going to be left in the dust, scrabbling like a needy fuck. I don’t want to be the clingy one, but I don’t want to lose him either. I don’t want to lose him like I did Ash, where I couldn’t do anything, but where I STILL blamed myself. I can’t keep going back, but it’s not going back. He’s one of my best friends and yes, he’ll always be in the back of my mind in that capacity, but I hope it can fade. At some point. I’m not kidding myself – it won’t be quick at all – but that’s alright.
There’s too much, too many unresolved tears and feelings. I’m scared people will get sick of me, of my constant not-okay-ness, when how the fuck am I supposed to get up from this now? I’m expected to jump up, smile, tell the world I’m good in a moment but I’m not in the slightest and I can’t pretend. My work ethic has gone down the drain and I can’t exactly tell my teachers, “Sorry Miss, I’m recently single, I felt too shit to do my homework!” because that is such a bad “excuse” and they don’t care anyway.
All my fears are swarming me here, late at night, in the dark where I’m hunched over as if I’m in physical pain. It feels like I am, sometimes, the coldness of rejection and heartbreak and loneliness leaving me breathless. Where am I supposed to go? Why does it hurt THIS badly and what am I doing?
Yeah, I’ll be okay. Bright now, I’m so incredibly scared of letting go, that my tears are falling faster and it’s good that I can’t see because I wouldn’t be able to read because of it. I’ll be alright, but they are and will be before me with each other and fuuuuuck why was it me that this had to happen too?
I wish it could have lasted longer. I wish I was happier for longer, that I didn’t feel guilty for crying. He respects me though, and I respect him because he has ALWAYS told me the truth, and been the amazing boyfriend and then friend that I knew he would be.
I think I’m going to get some sleep. Paris made me feel equal parts happy and sad, and today is reserved for sadness. That’s okay.
From Elm 🙂