Tag Archives: Hurt

Damaged Heart

You may be capable of forgiving, but the forgetting part is out of your hands. Forgiveness is nothing to scoff at though, it takes a hell of a person with a mighty generous heart to experience some type of traumatizing betrayal and accept an apology. And people can be ruthless, so it’s not a given that you’ll even receive an apology at all. It forces us to deal with the wrongdoings internally before we can move on with life. Still — as difficult as forgiving may be, it’s ultimately up to you. The forgetting however, is not.

People seem less and less thoughtful about their actions. A moment of pleasure is constantly being chosen over potential years of reliability and happiness. Then, when the flash of indulgence is over, consideration for what has been done begins. People may start to feel bad; others may just feel scared that the truth will come out. For some it will take being caught to find out, for others, their conscious forces them to confess, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

So whatever happened is now carved into your brain. It has left an unpleasantly deep wound that hurts regardless or apologies, excuses or explanations. You’re officially damaged and what people fail to realize is that it’s permanent. Playing with emotions, cheating, screwing people over, breaking trust – these things are taken lightly nowadays, and I can’t fathomwhy. When you do any of those things to a person, you are leaving them emotionally disabled for some time. We rehabilitate and when we do eventually “get over” things, all that means is that we’ve figured out a way to walk without each step hurting. But we’re well aware that if we walk a certain way, it might tweak the previous injury. Or even worse, tear the same wound wide open.

The lasting effects are simply inevitable.  You’ve learned to get along pain free because you walk with a limp to remain comfortable — and after so long, you make a habit of it. It’s second nature to get by the way you get by, until someone comes along and makes you consider trying that old method. The technique that broke you in the first place.

It can be hard, especially if the person trying to sweep you off your feet is doing everything so freakin’ perfect. It’d almost be better if they’d just mess up or show some awful red flag so we can get out of being vulnerable early on. Happiness with a person is too good to be true — it’s unfathomable that a person is genuinely concerned over you and has no ulterior motives that’ll cut you down eventually. That’s when we realize the extend of the previous damage, and just how broken we are. At times, a previously shattered heart has absolutely no idea how to respond to genuine care and affection, which is truly unfortunate. The person or people from the past who’ve hurt you still linger, even long after they’re gone.

One time is all it takes. Once you’ve been damaged, you don’t fully recover, so much as you teach yourself to cope. The wounds are there, the lessons are learned, the memories are engraved, and you’ve got to decide if you want to do it all over again – or if you’re even capable of that. A damaged heart is tentative and that’s got to be clear to anyone seeking to win you over. On your own time, as you’re ready, you’ll have to drop the crutches, dip your toes in to test the waters, and, when the time is right, love hard as you loved before.

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Have you ever met someone and instantly fell in love with the kind of person they are, or at least who you thought they were? Then come to find out they’re not at all as you made them out to be?

I feel like this is something that happens pretty often. I believe we all have a tendency to listen to ourselves more than we should sometimes. Of course I’m mostly speaking for myself in this situation because it’s something I’ve experienced recently, but I think I’ve learned an important lesson throughout it all:

The greatest lies are the ones we tell ourselves. The mind usually always tells us what we want to hear, and not always what’s real or true. For this reason it’s more important than ever to make conscious decisions and wise choices, and to never make people out to be more than what they are.

Sometimes it’s hard to see people as they truly are because you have the ones that tell you what you want to hear, and the ones that never say exactly what’s on their mind. I think that’s why I’ve grown accustomed to being an observant person. I don’t really listen to what people say, but I watch for the emotion behind their words to tell me how they really feel. Study the matrix of a conversation and listen for more than just words. Usually your gut instinct will do this all for you anyway, and all you have to do is listen to it.

You’re gonna run into so many people that don’t express themselves how you wish they would, or tell you exactly how they’re feeling and what’s on their mind. That’s why I feel like it’s important to listen beyond their words. I feel like that’s the only way you’ll ever truly find the answer you’re looking for. Sometimes it’s not always the answer you want to hear, but at least you know who’s truly worth your time and who’s not.

In the end it only saves you from getting hurt…

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Quit Playing

I was vulnerable and so you took advantage of me. The one you hate he broke my heart you said you were glad. You pounced. I don’t know better, I need comfort and being numb. You make me feel special. You suck me into your world where you want me. Hide me away. All to yourself. You keep us a secret and you lie. Play play play. All a game. You said you love me all the time, how much you care. And it was lies because now you say it was always lies to everyone. But I don’t even care anyway. Because I love him. The one you tried so hard to make me not love. And all the people you say you hated before but now you suck them back into your world because you are a sad lonely man and you don’t have anyone else. And you might ruin their lives too. Play play play. All a game. And you are a pervert, and you say gross things. And when I didn’t want you on me and I try to say no, you keep going to have your way. Or when I sleep you wake me to do the same. Touching me when I don’t want. Holding me down and laughing. I couldn’t get away. And the other girls too. So then I try not to stay with you so that I didn’t have to be scared. You say once that you don’t want your daughters to be with cunts so you would never be one. But you do very cunt things. What if that was your daughters. Being talked to like this or scared or try to say no and it means nothing. You should be careful. And you trap me all the time. So I can’t leave you. I feel too guilty to. And then when I do leave you you try to trick me. But I see your tricks. Play play play. All a game. You try to make me feel special. Tell me things that you have never told anyone else. But then I find out everyone already knows it. And then when game is over you keep on playing. You go to the street of the one you hate and you paint a picture of me on the wall. To make us angry or something. Play play play. All a game. And then the one you hate, his lights go missing and his wires get cut and the neighbor he says someone was fiddling with the bikes. Someone who looks like you and then he ran away. And then you write a blog about being cold and cutting off emotions and about important things to me to try to get me but you don’t because I hate you and you are a creep and I want to do bad things to you because you deserve it.

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Time To Go

When I decided to be with you, I lost a part of me. I had to, if I were to be with you. I gave it up, fully conscious and aware of the things that I had to let go so I can be with you. And maybe that’s where it started. That one neglected crack that slowly created the ripple of fissures in what we assumed was a “strong” relationship and had eventually led to its demise. To what is now.

I’m not blaming you for all of it had been my choice. Perhaps I just can’t stop blaming myself for not seeing this from the beginning so I could have at least saved us both from this bigger wretched heartache. And you know what’s the ironic part? After all that I’ve done not once did it occur to me to have any regrets of choosing spending those years together with you. The only regret was what came after, of hurting you and leaving you for reasons I could bulletproof here, but in the end won’t matter as much as what the result had been to you.

I have been blaming myself for months and I still am. At first I thought I needed your forgiveness so I could stop feeling this way. In some ways I am still hoping for that one day in the far off future, but I would understand and half-expected it if I’m not granted so. I guess I realized that your forgiveness is wanted but not entirely necessary in order for me to move on, instead it must be I who should be able to forgive myself.

I neglected myself. I thought by giving up certain parts of me, I could occupy or fill it in with something else. I succeeded distracting myself of the issue, I focused all my energy into studies and building my world around you without having realized or wanting to. I had to give up some close friends (although some were quite frankly not real friends I’ve come to learn) and possibly some family members, beliefs and preferences I thought I could forget and live without. And with that when we started I suppose I was never able to give you entirely me after all.

So maybe the reason why I left is truly because of me. Because I found myself enlightened that as much as I wanted and tried to (even if you might think otherwise), I was not able to give myself fully to you for before we even got started I was no longer in one piece. I was no longer the girl you fell in love with in her “completeness”. This is the reason why we could no longer work. The reason why I found myself unhappy even if on the outside what we had seemed “too good to be true”.

So I decided when the next time comes, by then I should and needed be whole again as I could ever be. That if I would allow myself to fall again, the person who would catch me should accept me entirely as is, complete, or none at all.

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“She’s so pretty,” the words every girl wants to hear about herself. However, it is what she believes about herself that is more important. It is where she defines her beauty that actually makes her attractive. Beauty goes beyond skin deep. It goes into the depths of a woman’s soul. The most radiant women light up a room when they exude confidence. They shine when they operate from the inside out and they leave you wanting.
The woman who is average in the looks department or even less than, may hide her beauty. She willingly betrays her feminine side as she puts in little to no effort to accentuate her God given allure. She down plays her appearance as it has become an evil bane to be avoided. Rejection stings like a blistering sunburn. She covers herself up or avoids light altogether. While she protects herself from such hurt she also squelches her free spirit.
Why is that so many strong women come across as closed off, uptight, and pretentious? She may be well dressed, up-kept, organized, and assertive, yet she is intimidating. She can put off an aura of invulnerability. A vast majority of men find her intimidating and thereby avoid her. This woman lives under an umbrella even when the sun is out, not being admired and adored for there strengths. She may even begin to pretend she is ugly.
Other females who are educated and have intellectual thoughts can become torn and even annoyed with those who live at a superficial level. The overemphasized outward beauty and the under appreciated inward development causes us to question our world’s priorities. Pink’s song “Stupid girls” is a prime example, “She’s so pretty, that just ain’t me.”
We all know these women. The cute girl with a pretty face and a gorgeous, hot body. She is easy to be envious of. She emanates sex appeal. She has desirability. She’s been endowed with the art of seduction without trying. Life seems to come easy for her. She acts carefree, happy, silly, and innocent as boys linger at her every word… or so it appears. However, her beauty is fleeting and her charm is deceptive. Her insecurities are endless and her fears overwhelming. Her identity is based on something temporal, therefore it is only a matter of time before her value depreciates quicker than the US dollar.
But being acknowledged for her physical appearance has brought her a long way. Many like the Kim Kardashians of the world are beautiful and even business minded, yet the remain shallow. With no depth of person, she has no deep well in which to draw from. She may be moved with compassion by the latest “social justice” fads, but she herself is starving for truth. Though she is gorgeous with a mind of her own, often times she simply does not develop it. She overcompensates with materialism as her looks have become her primary facet. Her world crumbles as she ages. Like the queen in Snow White she grasps for potions and seeks the fountain of youth.
On the other hand, the Jenny McCarthys use their beauty as a platform. Though she may flaunt her outward beauty, it has become a vehicle to gain the attention of her real worth of being an articulate educator. In this juxtaposition, she develops an “I don’t give a F**k attitude” which tends to sting like a slap in the face if one payed her a genuine compliment. They fall to the floor as she has no container in which to hold them. She utterly believes her beauty is not a virtue to be extolled, but a weakness to be exploited. It is often her knee jerk reaction to a cruel life of abuse where she does what she has to to survive. She plays the part, but struggles with love. As in John Mclaughlin’s song, She feels “…there is no difference betweens the lies and compliments if everyone leaves her.”
It is the Marilyn Monroes of society who have become the most self-destructive. Her desire to “belong”, to be “wonderful”, to be loved for “herself” are her driving motivations. Her self inflicted torment and torture engrosses her being. It only takes a simple read through Marilyn’s famous quotes to hear the longings of her heart. We find the root of her pain in her statement – “No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they’re pretty, even if they aren’t.”
What is in her mind has become her reality. Like in Inception she can no longer distinguish fantasy from reality. Unless she chooses to believe the truth, not her presuppositions and reasonings, but the true truth, she will be consumed by the lies she accepts to sleep with. Riddled with shame and filled with unbridled pain she has no place for her heart to call home.
She sell her priceless treasures for mere money, or gives them away for free simply because she does not know her worth. She is not willing to wait for someone to pay the cost. She believes there is no one who will put in the effort to pursue her heart. She desires respect and appreciation, yet she opens the door to thieves. She acts desperate and violates her own heart by not holding out for an offer of real love.
She is the girl who lives in constant comparison to others. She lives in lack and hurts the most believing she will always fall short. She can try and try to the best of her ability but she will never be good enough to be genuinely wanted. She may have wisps of affection, echoes of love, and muddy reflections of respect, but in the end she dies alone.
Are we as women destined to do one of these things? Do we quit before we start, saving ourselves from a world of hurt? Do we preemptively decide there is no hope for us and simply forfeit? Or do we strive for unattainable perfection thereby validating our inadequacies and ultimately throwing out any all real beauty we possess? How is it we live with no hope, no attainable aspirations, and no trust in the truth? How has our beauty become our own worst enemy?
In my all time favorite movie “Pretty Woman” eventually the girl finally gets it. She reminds me much of myself: red hair, big smile, loves cars, and independent. She doesn’t use drugs and has a head full of dreams. She, like the me of the past, also did not know her worth. Through the process of experiencing love and letting go of fears, she realizes she is destined to be more than a call girl. She wants it all, and finally, when she discovers who she is, she is willing to wait for someone who will give her everything. Her time has come to be seen, to be heard, and to be known.
Though there may have been abuses in our lives, we can not live in blame of others. More precisely, we cannot live in blame of men. Though we have been neglected, overlooked, or under appreciated, ultimately we are responsible for our own actions. What we do in life is a direct response to what we believe. If we seek approval from the outside in we will continually be working on our outsides. If our certainty is from a strong internal foundation from the inside out, we then glow simply because of who we are.

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I lay here, our bodies naked, pressed against each other, and I never want it to end.  Each kiss feels so perfect, every stroke of your hand down my ass and onto my legs make me shiver, the feel of my hands moving across your body, so beautiful.

You lay your head on my stomach, and I massage your neck, your shoulders, your scalp. Try to ease the tension of your days, relax your racing mind, help your body be at rest.  To lay there, being the one to caress the days away for you, to feel the perfectness that is you, here with me, to hear you moan as I work the kinks out of your neck….it’s all so, well, so amazing.

To leave is not fair, I do not want to go. I want to stay there, move my whole life into yours. Never have to let you go each night, to wake up and see your face, to kiss those lips.  To be there when you get home, to ask how your day ways, to see the children run up and hug you.

Sadly, I am going home now. I put on my shoes, I kiss you goodbye, embrace in a hug, oh wait, I hold on tighter, press into your body, oh how beautiful this feels.  And yet, we have to let go of each other. Kiss those lips one more time, put my head down in sadness, and make my way to my car.

Weak in the knees, a smile on my face.  I look back at your window, I say quietly, Good night baby, I love you.  Vision blurry, trying to gain focus of the night sky. I’m still in awe at how you make me feel.  How in so little time, I know the feelings that are coming over me.  I’ve felt true love before, I do not fear this, only fear a heartbreak.  But, I will not fight this, I will let this come to be, to be in love is a blessing, and baby, you have me falling in love with you.

Now I lay here, alone in my own bed. I wonder how you are, if you were able to fall asleep, wonder what you are thinking.  Are you falling in love with me? Time for me to sleep now, I will sleep with the memory of your arms around me, your body warming mine, your touch making me tremble and your kiss making me float high above the clouds.

Someday, I will be able to tell you all these things to your face. But for now, my love for you will continue to grow, to strengthen and in time, I will look into your amazing blue eyes, and tell you ‘I love you’

Sleep well my love

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You know the kind.
The ones you check are there when you’re lying in bed in the middle of the night, restless with thoughts of a past that’s been crumpled like the start of a badly written love story that could have been something worth expressing but the writer lost faith in the plot or the protagonist took a 4 a.m taxi to another writer, a new story.

The kind that makes you get up, stumble through your hallway flicking on the bathroom light, standing in the mirror and staring at yourself and in your head you’re counting the scars, how each one got there and when, which ones are deeper and which ones are fading. Then you catch the person’s eye in the mirror and realise they’re not there but your heart makes them feel so real.

Eventually, you lay your battered self out to someone again. They see everything, they trace their delicate fingers along the deepest scars and they pay close attention to the ones that are fading. If that person is special and means a lot, they can do this almost magic thing. They can make the scars disappear.

Hold onto them.

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