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People often said that breakups were some of the hardest things they went through in their life, but what about breakups between friends? What about all the memories you made together? What about all those late nights when their eyes were the only light holding you upright?
He was never mine, but losing him felt like thunder cracking through the sky, shattering the peace and quiet. He shattered my heart, and I couldn’t exactly blame him—he never knew.
Funny how these things work. You never know when the last time that the person you loved more than most other people in your life would become a stranger.
Sometimes when you love somebody, you decide to turn a blind eye to all those bad attributes they had, because the good ones were the only ones you cared about.
Wasn’t it fucked up that we spent our entire lives already having everything we ever needed, yet we never saw it until we lost those things?
Hearts were fragile things. Easily lovable, but easily breakable as well. To make matters worse, they were trusting, forgiving, keen to open their doors again for the person that hurt them, that made them bleed.
When you get used to the person, when your days and your nights were filled with them, you don’t really know how to rid yourself of all those expectations and all those things you wished you had.
Nobody ever tells you that when you lose someone who was still alive, it hurt more than if they were dead. No one ever tells you that seeing the person—your person—go on with their life, while you sit in the corner, all alone, wishing for time to go back, splits your heart in two.
No matter what—pain, love, eternity, or just a blip in time—I would still choose her. If I had to go through the same thing over and over again, I would still choose to know her, to meet her, to love her.
Every one of us carried pieces of other people inside our chest. Our love for them could make us and also break us, but it was undeniable that it often made us who we were. And because of that, when a person leaves this world, that piece we carried for so long would become like a thorn in our side, reminding us of what we’ve lost.
