What We Broke

by Marley Valentine

He is a masterpiece that I have the privilege of admiring every day.

It is life’s greatest privilege to be in the presence of this man, to love this man and be loved by him.

It’s not the type of kiss that leads anywhere, rather it’s a kiss that keeps you grounded.

Her hand rests on my back, her comfort and empathy emanating from that simple touch.

But there were also the unspoken vows. Like how my heart was his to wreck and to ruin. To damage and destroy.

Lately, I’ve been of two minds; full of both empathy and resentment toward this man.

“The only way I’ll ever let you go is if I’m six feet under.” I glide the tip of my nose down the length of his nape, enjoying the hitch in his breath and the way his body shivers against mine. “It’s till death do us part, baby. And we’re both still here.”

Mornings are the one moment when, for a fraction of a second, my day starts with a clean slate. When there is one single opportunity to inhale and exhale freely.

It is also that one, same moment when realization hits and it all comes flooding back. The memories, the agony, the torturous weight of sadness and loss. That first reminder is paralyzing.

We aren’t just bound together by marriage vows, we are tethered. Like magnets, my soul couldn’t detach itself from his no matter how hard I tried.

I am the seven stages of grief personified, but sometimes I don’t know what I’m grieving the most: my past or my future.

🥲

Our grief does not feel the same and it changed everything for me.

holy fuck do I want him. And I always get what I want.

The man in front of me is sex personified and he wants to feed me before he fucks me.

It’s been a whole year, and every time someone calls or texts me, it immobilizes me.

literally same.

Death doesn’t discriminate, and grief is the roller coaster ride that everybody wants to get off.

We are complex creatures, and grief and happiness can co-exist.

Yes, life has moved on, but it feels like it has moved on around me and not with me.

“Show me how fucking pretty you are.”

“You’re mine,” he says with such finality. “You’re my worry, my heartache, my burden. Whatever you think you are, whatever season it is for us, you’re fucking mine, Leo.”

“No, I will not indulge in your need for praise.” I laugh. “I am not that bad.” “You’re a proper slut for it.”

I don’t want to hurt him with the thoughts that make me hurt. They’re untrue and they are ugly, but the thing about insecurities and a childhood riddled with neglect is there is no rationale.

There is no such thing as common sense and logic. It’s just pain, heartache, and no coping skills.

looking like hope and heartache.

“Do you know how hard it is to have you so close but still so out of my reach?”

I want to mark him everywhere. I want to bruise his body with my mouth. I want him to look in the mirror every day for the next week and know there is no escaping me.

it hits me just how different spontaneity looks like after you’ve suffered through a trauma. Almost like anything unexpected would forever be bad news.

“For some people there is no rational thinking when it comes to their grief and processing it. A lot of the time, trauma can skew our perceptions and the way we see the world around us.”

“Because sometimes we hurt the ones we love, and sorry just doesn’t cut it.”

I want to believe our love is a great love, a true love, but unfortunately, the hard lesson to learn is that it doesn’t actually matter which one of those it is. Because with great love comes great loss, and with true love comes true pain.

So now we love with purpose.

“I have applications in California, Washington, DC, Colorado, and Connecticut,” she lists. “I applied for all queer-inclusive schools in the states with the most queer-friendly policies.”

ayeee ct

Raine was given a safe space to explore how much Lola’s conception and stillbirth affected her as a sibling as well as a daughter.

Bad things absolutely happen to good people, but so do good things. And the former should never be given the power to eliminate the latter.

Fight for the good. Earn your right to deserve the good. Nurture and love the good. And let it matter less what we broke, than the fact that we found our way back to each other.