I’ve been there. I know that feeling. You arise from a dead cold sleep in the middle of the night, stomach wrenching, head spinning, and wondering ‘why’? Your pillow has wet stains on it, and not from anything thrilling; no. It’s damp from the tears that you’ve been trying to control, but your subconscious soul let’s them pour away the pain while the rest of your body is at rest. You get out of bed, pace around the room for a while, thinking of all the shitty things you remember, but they’re out-shined by the great memories and you bury your head in your hands once more, pulling your hair as you scream out in frustration. You want to throw up. Maybe some music will help. Every fucking song reminds you of it. Fuck that, you turn the tunes down. You sit there in silence. You, your thoughts, and the clock ticking on the wall…after a while, maybe a week, maybe months later…the pain stops.
You’ll never forget the feeling, it’s an all-too familiar frienemy. I think the reminder of the heartache is a sad blessing. It closes you off a bit, gives you a guard that seven kingdoms couldn’t break through. In truth, you may never love the same, feel, or be that person you once were again…but dammit, does it make you strong. It helps assist your now wiser mind to choose with more perspective when the time comes again. You’ll now know exactly what you want, and there will be no settling for less than what you now know that you deserve.
Just hang in there, wrestle your heart around a bit, scream ‘fuck’, cry a ton, kick stones, and let it out. Just keep in mind, there will be a moment when you don’t feel that stabbing pain anymore, when your smiles will stem naturally and your days wont be consumed with cynical thoughts. A certain kind of peace reigns over you, and your heart is reborn.
It’ll happen, trust me.