Photo by Graham Burwell
MUTHA FU*KIN BREAK UPS. Those babies are rough. I went through my one and only true heartbreak almost 2 years ago.
We have been taught not to talk about breakups or past lovers. You don't want to be labeled a "crazy girl" or living in the past. There is a difference in looking into your past rather than living in it and I think there are valuable lessons in taking a peek of what was. It allows us to appreciate what is.
Sidenote: I am not sharing this for any reason but to challenge myself in vulnerability.
It was a month prior to the end. I call those couple of weeks between love and destruction that because it seems fitting. I was in Tennessee in the dead of summer, walking alone through a festival, a sea of people. Colors and sounds and movements surrounded me supporting me. I was one with the universe and it was one with me. I was whole, I was alone and I was free. I heard Robert Plant in the background singing, Going to California. My eyes filled with tears, I was happy in this moment alone. It was the first time I was that truly at peace in years. My soul had been tormented with my doubts and insecurities. I fed into the lies of my ego. My perception of the world was constructed from this mindset.
I got in the car after the fight. I couldn’t breathe and I felt as if my heart would fall out. I didn’t want to go on without him. I couldn’t go on without him. He was everything. That is what dependent love will do to you. Who was I without him? I clicked the button to turn on the radio. Once again Robert Plant was singing the song of my soul transporting me back in time to the moment I felt at home within myself.
In just a few days, I packed up and I moved to California.
I wasn’t strong. In fact, I was quite pathetic. Begging for him to come home to spend the last days with me in our apartment. Searching for some way in my heart that I could convince him that he still loved me.
I packed my things in a whirlwind of wine. Drinking straight from the bottle with tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t sleep. I was devastated. Then I drove west. I had to stop replaying the sound of my lovers voice. I erased all the voicemails. I needed to forget.
Rejection. Feeling unwanted. These are emotions I learned to sit with. Who was I to think you were capable of giving me what only I could give myself: true love?
Months went by and I had still tried to reach out. Hoping he would see that I would of given him my own heart from my chest if that made him happy. I pined to have his validation of our love. I delayed my healing because I wasn't ready to let go.
Delayed healing- meaningless lovers, fermented fruits and dried up herbs helped me feel less. It served me for a time but holding that energy in my heart was only a poison waiting to slowly consume me.
Then I sat alone. I let the emotions flow through me. I acknowledged the pain and chose to release it all. This became my practice when the feelings of worthlessness would arise again.
I found the home that was within my own heart. Then all at once like a wave washing over me, I felt hope. My heart was cleansed and my broken pieces were put pack together and now the cracks were filled with gold.
And now Im back bitches.
“Sweetness and madness and dreamlike surrender. They hurl you into the abyss. they taste like hope” - Victoria Erickson @victoriaericksonwriter