Have you ever broken your own heart in order to be free?
|There are people that are our exact polar opposites. People who you can and will not understand, who you naturally keep away from, not out of hate or disdain, but out of instinct. People whom you know will never know you completely, because they are so utterly different it is impossible. People who you only go to when you are broken, and who will only come to you when they are.
Have you ever felt the splinters of your broken heart digging into your chest, cutting and tearing beneath your skin, so inside you that from outside it is impossible to see the destruction they are causing, while you shudder and scream in silence from the pain it has caused?
A long time later, once the destruction is over: a destruction that broke you from the inside and never ruined the outer shell, a destruction that could only be seen through your eyes, and only once the veil that covered them had been lifted; have you ever felt the bruises, and fallen into silence, into darkness, because you knew that despite everything you had to keep up the appearances, because there were things much more important than you and your destructed soul?
Have you ever ignored the scars, while healing other people’s, pretending that you did not suffer from the same disease they did, and listened to their screams, dried their tears, while wishing you could have someone to do the same with you?
And while your body is frozen, avoiding the inevitable infection that could fill your wounds, your mind runs over pointless things that you use as a shield against the grief that was caused by that one perfect person; the person who could have made your life everything you had always wished it to be, who was so very wonderful he was way beyond anything you had ever deserved, have you ever blinked slowly in the darkness and looked up, only to see light, and realize that the light was coming from that other person that was your complete opposite?
Have you ever been in that strange, tender state, in which the darkness grew into a halo of light that was caused entirely by him: a person you had never expected to change into such a beautiful complement of your life, whom you never expected to make you laugh, whom had always seemed so aloof you could hardly recognize him as the person you had known before?
Have you ever realized, in the back of your mind, that you were most decidedly not in love with him, and spent hours on end wondering exactly what emotion you felt for him: a mixture of platonic love, fraternal love, pure hate and irritation, that suddenly swelled and became an irresistible connection, an attraction that steadily pulled both of you together, despite how much you denied it?
Have you ever stood still in that strange, twisted, convoluted paradise of colors that were too bright and shadows that were too great, and asked yourself what happened, what made you come to this point, and wondered if this was using him, wondered if he was leading you on to a pointless place, a place where there were no rules, but you both would have rules and knew that rules could not be broken, because you would both refuse to break them on principle?
And then, in midst of the chaos of your brain, have you understood the truth: that you had both been broken from the inside by different perfect people, and that you had found each other and reconstructed each other, and done it wrongly: because when you did so, you constructed more than was meant to, and put a piece of yourself in him even as he put a piece of himself in you, and that now you were facing the consequences…a love that was not love, and a hate that was so much more than that?
Have you ever been pulled back by Fate, and seen him leave, without so much as a goodbye, seen a darkness in a gaze he diverted from you, wondered if the person you had come to know him as was gone, and what had happened to take him away, or if you had simply imagined the change in the frenzy of your own pain?
Have you ever been in denial, and continued with your normal life, pretending that he had never existed, while in the back of your mind and your heart, he was always there, the broken image of a broken person whom you loved and hated at the same time, but were never in love with?
And, a long time later, have you ever looked up and found him there, suddenly realizing that you had felt lost without him, and that you were not complete until you saw him, though you were confused and frightened, because everything was so very wrong and neither of you had ever meant it to be that way?
Have you ever ignored the foreboding feeling in your heart, even as you subconsciously realized that your relationship was like elastic: you could stretch it far, but eventually it would jump back and you would be closer than ever?
Have you ever felt his touch against your skin, and felt the implications of it and the insinuations of it, while you could see that he promised nothing, and that you could not hold anything at all against him, while there was too much proof against your own mind that made great fantasies out of nothing?
Have you ever woken up one morning and understood how dangerous that was; that he could lead you both to dark places if you let him, and reminded yourself of all the reasons for which it was wrong for you to be together; and the first one was the fact that you were not in love with him, and you didn’t want to be, much less have the feeling be mutual, and realized that that was even more wrong, because that was not a foundation for a relationship…and while you wanted him, your concept of him was born more in your own imagination than in the reflection of his actual self, and that once more, that was wrong?
And when the days of your separation, in which you had realized all these things, were over, have you ever found him different; slightly disconnected from you, no longer seeking you out in the crowds, avoiding your gaze while he spoke carelessly, pretending that nothing had ever happened between you and making you feel more than ever that everything had been some cruel joke that Fate had played on you, while you felt the connection, always there?
Have you ever sunk deep into misery, asking yourself what you did wrong, and why he was treating you like this, and suddenly realized that you did not hate him so much, and that you were almost grateful for his doing it?
Have you ever woken up from that dream he had created in your mind, and realized what he had understood: that if you pulled the elastic hard enough, it would break, but you needed the strength to do it?
Have you ever pretended along with him, trying not to feel jealousy as he talked to others, trying as hard as you could to remain friendly but nothing more, trying not to miss the captivating feeling of his attention and his touch, but inevitably speaking in your mind with a smirk as you watch him flirting with others: “I was there first. And we both know it”?
Have you ever given up, and let go of the convoluted paradise you had both adored and abhorred, leaving it to some other person who deserved it, knowing in the back of your mind that you could do better, and hating yourself for thinking that, because you truly did love him though you were not in love with him, and the connection was still there, not yet severed?
And then, even as you prepared to leave, pretending the connection did not exist and keeping your mask on before everyone else, hiding the new bruises he had left on your heart, have you ever looked into his eyes and suddenly found him bared before you: a lonely man reaching into his heart and slowly pulling out the piece of you that you had unknowingly left inside him, while his hands were stained with forever flowing warm blood that shone angrily towards you, showing you what you had done to him, and his eyes were haunted by a pain so great that it shook you to the core, even as your soul cried thanks to him through the sobs, knowing that he was doing this for both of you, and that your pain was the piece of him coming out, the last severing of the connection?
Have you ever grasped his hand in that last moment, seeming casual to any outsider, but opening your soul to him, revealing yourself as you truly were, and heard through his eyes his whispers of: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry eternally reverberating there, even as both of you bled bright red blood, tearing the scars open?
Have you ever had to walk away, shivering inside yourself and clenching your fists so as to not run back to him, because then everything he had done would be worth nothing, and you would be forced to return to that twisted paradise you had both constructed; have you ever looked back one last time to his haunted eyes and through your look whispered your forgiveness and your thanks, because you knew you would never have been able to do the same thing for him, because you were not strong enough, and all you could do was walk away, and break the last cord that held you together?
Have you ever broken your own heart in order to be free?