A Book I'm Going to Write
Realize Real Eyes Real Lies
It is not the relief you had expected, not the monumental weight being lifted from your shoulders, not you walking through the door of the pressure chamber you had been living in.
It is not you regaining your power, not your aha moment as you walk away from the explosion, fist held above your head.
It is not remembering all the bad times; all the tears and fights and screams that echoed off your car dashboard as you drove along through the night, the times you swore you'd "never go back," or the constant pitfalls of your heart as you again realized that he doesn't care, not anymore.
When you walk away, when you finally walk away, all you will remember is the way his skin smelled, and how warm his bare chest felt against the palm of your hand, and the way it felt to smile midway through kissing him, and the sound of i love you as it escaped his lips and as it escaped your own, and how you felt safe and how you felt wanted and how you felt like 'this is it'- and you will break your own heart.
You will break it with every step.
But this is where you rebuild. You've been here before, you've been broken by him and by others and you have prevailed.
You have listened to your name as it echoed off the glittering bathroom walls, only to find you in the furthest stall scraping tears from under your eyes at your senior prom.
You have begged him to stay, looked into his eyes to see nothing there- no love, no sympathy, no trace of what you once knew.
You have heaved dry heavy sobs in your car alone, pulling off to the side of the road as your tears blurred your vision.
You have felt the pounding stream of water as you knelt under the shower head, chin in your hands, knees indented by the tiles below you as you screamed and you cried and asked someone-anyone "why me".
And you have knelt, that same helpless position, on the gravel of your driveway as you watched him drive off, as you witnessed your life course changing, as you felt the spontaneous combustion of what was your pumping organ of a heart in your chest.
You have done it, you have survived it, and you will also survive this.
And this is the moment that all the small heart breaks have lead up to- have prepared you for.
And this is where you see that you can not only break yourself but you can also rebuild.
And this is how you realize your power- it's in you, it never left, and it will never be in someone else's hands again.
It is not you regaining your power, not your aha moment as you walk away from the explosion, fist held above your head.
It is not remembering all the bad times; all the tears and fights and screams that echoed off your car dashboard as you drove along through the night, the times you swore you'd "never go back," or the constant pitfalls of your heart as you again realized that he doesn't care, not anymore.
When you walk away, when you finally walk away, all you will remember is the way his skin smelled, and how warm his bare chest felt against the palm of your hand, and the way it felt to smile midway through kissing him, and the sound of i love you as it escaped his lips and as it escaped your own, and how you felt safe and how you felt wanted and how you felt like 'this is it'- and you will break your own heart.
You will break it with every step.
But this is where you rebuild. You've been here before, you've been broken by him and by others and you have prevailed.
You have listened to your name as it echoed off the glittering bathroom walls, only to find you in the furthest stall scraping tears from under your eyes at your senior prom.
You have begged him to stay, looked into his eyes to see nothing there- no love, no sympathy, no trace of what you once knew.
You have heaved dry heavy sobs in your car alone, pulling off to the side of the road as your tears blurred your vision.
You have felt the pounding stream of water as you knelt under the shower head, chin in your hands, knees indented by the tiles below you as you screamed and you cried and asked someone-anyone "why me".
And you have knelt, that same helpless position, on the gravel of your driveway as you watched him drive off, as you witnessed your life course changing, as you felt the spontaneous combustion of what was your pumping organ of a heart in your chest.
You have done it, you have survived it, and you will also survive this.
And this is the moment that all the small heart breaks have lead up to- have prepared you for.
And this is where you see that you can not only break yourself but you can also rebuild.
And this is how you realize your power- it's in you, it never left, and it will never be in someone else's hands again.