Status: One shot.
A Lifetime Breathing
heartbreaks;
It takes a second to breathe and that I do, something so simple, so automatic keeping me alive. I breathe sweet air in and out, in and out. Holding my breath makes my lungs ache so I do not do that. Most of the time.
It takes a minute to speak and what you say washes over me like a wave of bitter lies and honesty and life and you. “I’m sorry, dear...I didn’t mean to hurt you so.” But that is a line so many spit out in deceit and lies. I do know when you lie, even if you wish that was not so.
It takes an hour to realise and the realisation is as horrific as the haircut your mother forced you to have. I remember I told you it was beautiful but those memories do not matter anymore. My realisation tells me you are gone, as good as dead to me now. Your departure was as fleeting as my meaning to you.
It takes a day to wallow and black as my soul, the wallowing feeds me, or at least I assume that is why I no longer feel hungry. My time is spent alone, thinking about you, or with others, thinking about you. It’s a pity I am so helpless to your charms and beauty. People had warned me your love never stays the same.
It takes a week to adapt and adapt I have. There is still a rotting hole in me that you used to occupy but I live around it. Mentions of you go in one ear and out the other. Memories of you are locked away in the strongest safe. Love for you has trickled out into a monotonous longing.
It takes a month to move on or at least start to. My bitter denial of our time together has morphed into acceptance that it is done. I turn my eyes to our memories and then away again because pretending they do not burn me is so much easier. You are there but I am able to laugh and smile again. The hurt and humiliation you left in me isn’t so sharp anymore.
It takes a year to forgive and forget. I must say I miss you like the sun misses the horizon when it is midday, but the hurt has faded. You are but a memory now and I have come to understand that staying with me if you did not love me would only pain you.
It takes half a decade to let someone new in and I don’t think I am bitter for the time loss. I have come to love and lust again and for an angel too. You yourself would stare upon her face like it reveals all the mysteries of the world. I did, as so many others as well.
It takes a decade to forget you completely. Dear, you are just a blurry photograph on someone else’s mantelpiece. When your name is mentioned, I laugh and say, “Oh, yes! We had but a brief relationship when I was barely out of childhood, if I remember correctly.” I only think of you now when someone else utters your name.
It takes two decades to find out what grief and a broken heart really feels like. My angel was taken to the Heavens after such a brief period of happiness with her. It pained me so greatly when we lowered her coffin into the freshly dug grave. Even you did not make me hurt so much. I ask for it to go away but, oh no, it does not.
It takes half a century from the time you broke my heart to find you again. We are elderly now, I more so than you because grief has aged me before my years. Yet, I found you in a marketplace one day and I did not recognise you until we were introduced and on our way to love again. And my, I have to say you look lovely with white hair and wrinkles, my dear.
It takes a lifetime to love and first love will never be forgotten. My love for you flared like a sickness the second you mentioned your name for the second time.
I shall miss you, dear, for as I write this now, my life is dimming. The sickness has finally taken over my body. Promise you will not cry, darling, because I will wait for you in Death.
It takes a minute to speak and what you say washes over me like a wave of bitter lies and honesty and life and you. “I’m sorry, dear...I didn’t mean to hurt you so.” But that is a line so many spit out in deceit and lies. I do know when you lie, even if you wish that was not so.
It takes an hour to realise and the realisation is as horrific as the haircut your mother forced you to have. I remember I told you it was beautiful but those memories do not matter anymore. My realisation tells me you are gone, as good as dead to me now. Your departure was as fleeting as my meaning to you.
It takes a day to wallow and black as my soul, the wallowing feeds me, or at least I assume that is why I no longer feel hungry. My time is spent alone, thinking about you, or with others, thinking about you. It’s a pity I am so helpless to your charms and beauty. People had warned me your love never stays the same.
It takes a week to adapt and adapt I have. There is still a rotting hole in me that you used to occupy but I live around it. Mentions of you go in one ear and out the other. Memories of you are locked away in the strongest safe. Love for you has trickled out into a monotonous longing.
It takes a month to move on or at least start to. My bitter denial of our time together has morphed into acceptance that it is done. I turn my eyes to our memories and then away again because pretending they do not burn me is so much easier. You are there but I am able to laugh and smile again. The hurt and humiliation you left in me isn’t so sharp anymore.
It takes a year to forgive and forget. I must say I miss you like the sun misses the horizon when it is midday, but the hurt has faded. You are but a memory now and I have come to understand that staying with me if you did not love me would only pain you.
It takes half a decade to let someone new in and I don’t think I am bitter for the time loss. I have come to love and lust again and for an angel too. You yourself would stare upon her face like it reveals all the mysteries of the world. I did, as so many others as well.
It takes a decade to forget you completely. Dear, you are just a blurry photograph on someone else’s mantelpiece. When your name is mentioned, I laugh and say, “Oh, yes! We had but a brief relationship when I was barely out of childhood, if I remember correctly.” I only think of you now when someone else utters your name.
It takes two decades to find out what grief and a broken heart really feels like. My angel was taken to the Heavens after such a brief period of happiness with her. It pained me so greatly when we lowered her coffin into the freshly dug grave. Even you did not make me hurt so much. I ask for it to go away but, oh no, it does not.
It takes half a century from the time you broke my heart to find you again. We are elderly now, I more so than you because grief has aged me before my years. Yet, I found you in a marketplace one day and I did not recognise you until we were introduced and on our way to love again. And my, I have to say you look lovely with white hair and wrinkles, my dear.
It takes a lifetime to love and first love will never be forgotten. My love for you flared like a sickness the second you mentioned your name for the second time.
I shall miss you, dear, for as I write this now, my life is dimming. The sickness has finally taken over my body. Promise you will not cry, darling, because I will wait for you in Death.