To Finally be Perfect:
I am a doll because of you. My eyes are glossy and see nothing. My limbs move but I cannot feel them. My lips cannot tell you how I feel. I have a heart, but it is not functional anymore…
When we are little kids, we all sometimes say: “But that’s no fair!”
And we all get the response: “Life’s not fair. Deal with it.”
If I would have known how true that statement was, maybe I could have prepared myself for what happened in my life: I got hurt, a lot. Now I am somewhat healing, I am stronger than anyone could ever know.
Love. That’s what carved me into the person I am today. Not in a good way. People talk about love like it’s beautiful and supposed to make you into the happiest person on Earth.
When in reality, putting all of my adolescent anger and angst aside, love is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you.
At first it’s amazing, your whole universe revolves around your significant other and you feel unstoppable. But eventually, things change and you feel like dying. It may take weeks, it may take decades, but it is inevitable that the parasite we call “love” will creep inside your ribcage and fester, eating away at your heart and spitting acid into your lungs with every break up, every lie, and every broken promise.
Now when I hear people talk about love, I am hit with an almost unbearable since of dread. I look composed at first glance, but look beyond that and you will see that I am doubled over in pain, frantically gathering pieces of myself off the floor. I will never be complete again.
And we all get the response: “Life’s not fair. Deal with it.”
If I would have known how true that statement was, maybe I could have prepared myself for what happened in my life: I got hurt, a lot. Now I am somewhat healing, I am stronger than anyone could ever know.
Love. That’s what carved me into the person I am today. Not in a good way. People talk about love like it’s beautiful and supposed to make you into the happiest person on Earth.
When in reality, putting all of my adolescent anger and angst aside, love is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you.
At first it’s amazing, your whole universe revolves around your significant other and you feel unstoppable. But eventually, things change and you feel like dying. It may take weeks, it may take decades, but it is inevitable that the parasite we call “love” will creep inside your ribcage and fester, eating away at your heart and spitting acid into your lungs with every break up, every lie, and every broken promise.
Now when I hear people talk about love, I am hit with an almost unbearable since of dread. I look composed at first glance, but look beyond that and you will see that I am doubled over in pain, frantically gathering pieces of myself off the floor. I will never be complete again.
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