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In Love with the idea of Love

By Elise Faith All Rights Reserved ©

Romance / Drama


It would be a lie to say I did not love him. Although, to say I loved him would be an understatement. I worshiped him. I worshiped him with every fiber of my feeble body. I did not want to fall in love. He did not love me. Now I see that. That is ok. I am alright. He was beautiful and strong and simple. He was a common denominator in a time of change and strife. He changed me. He ruined me for the better. From the moment I saw him he was everything I wanted. I needed him. I craved him. His smell, his touch, all of him. I wanted to take all of him and give all of myself to him. I suppose in the end I did. Although, I did not know it at the time but the moment my eyes met his, I gave my soul away. How could I have been so blind?

He hurt me so badly I don’t sleep anymore, but when I finally do I wake up screaming in pain. I cry from nightmares of him literally ripping my heart out of my bare chest.

I torture myself by looking for him in everything I see, but he’s never there. Every second I don’t see him a little bit more disappointment creeps into my heart. A little bit more regret. A little bit more sadness. It got so bad that everyday, by the time the sun hit the trees in the early evening; when he would hold me close and tell me I was beautiful; it got so bad that once the sun hit the trees in the early evening I was completely broken. I would lay in bed sobbing and replaying everything in my head. From the moment our eyes first met, to the last time he kissed me goodbye. Every time I do it makes less and less sense. I gave him everything I had and more. Perhaps it simply wasn’t enough. In my mind I did it all right. I thought we had something special and electric. Now… I wonder if it was all just one great big lie to him. A game. A game he could not lose because he could control all of the pieces, including my own. I remember I would stare at his perfect face trying to remember the details like it was the last time I was going to see it. The last time he kissed me goodbye I was doing just that.

I can’t trust anyone anymore you see. I will never make a pact with anyone again. I will never accept or make a promise with anyone again. Especially not fucking pinky promises. Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe I am naive because it has affected me so. But that has always been the worst part. The part that haunts me the most. The moment that is on a constant loop in my brain. That moment when he looked at me with his perfectly cold blue eyes and so foolishly held out his pinky finger and said,

“I chose you. I promise you, I’m not going to disappear this time.”

Then that’s what he did. He left me. He left me broken and yearning for his return. Yearning for him. This broke me more than any worldly weapon ever could. Not only because deep in my heart I knew it was too good to be true, but because at that very moment I realized how much I really, truly, loved him. Now I hate myself for it… Because I still love him, and I fear I always will.

It’s a viscous cycle you see. Perhaps he was just a damaged person, but he should have known that his actions would only lead to more suffering. And now he has created more damaged people. He broke my mind, heart, body and soul in his selfish path. The worst part is, I would give anything to live it all over again. Just to have one last kiss. To have him say my name one last time. To feel the brush of his lips against my torso one last time. This, this I would kill for.

I think about all of this everyday. In doing so I break myself down again and again. My mind is the real enemy, it gets the best of me. It suffocates me. But I know without the memory of him I would not want to breathe at all. Now there’s nothing but a black hole where my heart used to be, that I so foolishly gave to him.

Before I continue, I must warn you; This is not a love story. This story is not a fairytale. This story does not have a happy ending. This story is mine. It is horrid, heartbreaking, wonderful, and beautiful all at the same time. It is a whirlwind of emotions, cursing, abuse, sex and the coming of age. This story is about a whore and a liar, brokenness and deceit. This story is full of lust, hate, and tears. This story is raw and pure. It is ok if you do not want to continue this story, if that is the case I suggest you leave now. Save yourself the tears and the angst. But, if you like me understand these occurrences and emotions and wish to see how someone so broken may seek resolution, please continue.

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