Pointless Heartbreak
Its one of those days again, one of those days where I sit down alone and suddenly my heart sinks. That feeling of intimate mutual embarassment, the type of heartbreak you feel when you fight with your significant other, in which each feels that the other is feeling something, having once existed, its effect is not to be done away with.
Pain hardens, and great pain hardens greatly, whatever the comforters say do not assist, though it may occasionally lend a certain rigid dignity of manner to the suffering frame. One often calms one's grief by recounting it, and that is exactly what I've spent the entire night doing, recounting all the grief I've gone through over the past couple of significant years of my life - from the death of my friends to the physical and mental abuse of nevermores.
Walker Percy said that since grief only aggravates your loss, you should grieve not for what is past. He is right, but why is it so hard to do the right thing? How is it possible to not reflect on these things every once in awhile? The only cure for grief is action and I have taken many the latter in building myself a future without these irritating flashback of unpleasant memories.
Hell is a place of punishment where what comes around goes around. I've always thought to myself that I was born there, because whatever I do always comes back to haunt me. I remember once upon a time, when I was only 14 or 15 years old. A girl named Joyce was outspoken enough to come up with something that really made me feel like a horrible person. It went something like:
Am I mad? That's your main concern after shattering my whole world? Mad for what? For breaking my heart? Or taking my innocence away? All the lies? Maybe for letting me put all my trust in you only to be betrayed? How about the fact that you didn't have the decency to tell me to my face? Or the way you think it's crazy that I'm crying over it, cause you think breaking up is no big deal? Am I mad? No. More like crushed. Whenever I cried you would always make me feel like you would change the world if you could so it couldn't hurt me anymore. But now Im crying and you're not here. If I had the power to take my heart right out of my chest and show you how many pieces you broke it into, would that at least ruin your day?
Why do I always hurt myself?
Why do I always break my own heart?
Why is it that all I see, all I hear, all I feel, all I live in is yesterday?
I used to laugh at some of my girl friends because sometimes they just sit around alone in their rooms and start crying for no reason. Hell will freeze over before you see me cry, but it won't be soon that you see me laughing at them.
Pain hardens, and great pain hardens greatly, whatever the comforters say do not assist, though it may occasionally lend a certain rigid dignity of manner to the suffering frame. One often calms one's grief by recounting it, and that is exactly what I've spent the entire night doing, recounting all the grief I've gone through over the past couple of significant years of my life - from the death of my friends to the physical and mental abuse of nevermores.
Walker Percy said that since grief only aggravates your loss, you should grieve not for what is past. He is right, but why is it so hard to do the right thing? How is it possible to not reflect on these things every once in awhile? The only cure for grief is action and I have taken many the latter in building myself a future without these irritating flashback of unpleasant memories.
Hell is a place of punishment where what comes around goes around. I've always thought to myself that I was born there, because whatever I do always comes back to haunt me. I remember once upon a time, when I was only 14 or 15 years old. A girl named Joyce was outspoken enough to come up with something that really made me feel like a horrible person. It went something like:
Am I mad? That's your main concern after shattering my whole world? Mad for what? For breaking my heart? Or taking my innocence away? All the lies? Maybe for letting me put all my trust in you only to be betrayed? How about the fact that you didn't have the decency to tell me to my face? Or the way you think it's crazy that I'm crying over it, cause you think breaking up is no big deal? Am I mad? No. More like crushed. Whenever I cried you would always make me feel like you would change the world if you could so it couldn't hurt me anymore. But now Im crying and you're not here. If I had the power to take my heart right out of my chest and show you how many pieces you broke it into, would that at least ruin your day?
Why do I always hurt myself?
Why do I always break my own heart?
Why is it that all I see, all I hear, all I feel, all I live in is yesterday?
I used to laugh at some of my girl friends because sometimes they just sit around alone in their rooms and start crying for no reason. Hell will freeze over before you see me cry, but it won't be soon that you see me laughing at them.
posted by D. at 7:32 AM
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