The best way to fall in love is without fear. You close your eyes and you let it take over you and lead you. You fall so hard and so fast, you feel like years have passed by when indeed it’s only been months.
But there’s a risk with that.
Like jumping out of a plane, sometimes your parachute doesn’t open.
That’s what I’ve been feeling like the last few days. I took that leap, my parachute didn’t open, and now that I’ve landed, I’ve been left broken. Broken body, broken soul, and a broken heart.
I’m not going to pretend like everything is good. I’ve ended a toxic relationship, yes, but that doesn’t make me happy. My friends say, “Well it’s great that you’re doing this now, rather than years later.”
If it’s so great, why doesn’t it feel that way?
Why can’t I let go of this anger? Why can’t I release these tears that have been building up? Why can’t I do anything else besides think of him and hope that he’s just as miserable and broken hearted as I am?
Is it so bad to want to feel like you meant something to someone? That your presence in their life was so significant that they’ll always compare everyone else to you? That when they’re lying in bed at night, trying to go to sleep, that they’ll think of you and wonder how you are?
I guess if I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that when they’re a sackless, conceited, narcissistic sociopath, normal rules don’t apply.