Thank You

My heart is a precious thing. It’s a precious object that beats and beats and beats. It pumps real blood and has real pulses. I know you felt the pulses, I know you did. You held me so close, closer than I had ever been held. You put me on a pedestal so high, high enough I could reach for a star and bring it back down. I can remember the day I met you, I can remember the days we could do absolutely nothing and be comfortable, I can remember the last day I ever saw you, I can remember the last thing I ever said to your face. I remember saying goodbye.

You tore every little feeling apart, to absolute shreds. I could feel the strings in my body wither away with every word you never said. I hear every chord snap inside in my body, my ears were on fire with explosions inside me. I could see my bright, red beating heart turn to a slow, dreadful grey. Turning thirty-second notes to whole notes, going from two hundred miles an hour to a mere five miles per hour.

I remember the day I saw you with her and how much I wished it was me. I looked at her and all I could feel was a complete jealous rage take over and my eyesight had gone red, then cleared with tears. I had wanted to be her more than anything and she had everything I wanted. She had you and your undivided attention and you looked at her the way I could only imagine you looking at me again. I remember the time where you looked at me like that; with total adoration and unwavering focus, like you were holding onto every word I said like it was the last word that would ever come out of my mouth. I wanted to believe that it could be like forever.

Slowly you forgot me. You forgot about those small important memories we shared and all the wonderful whimsies that had come from our almost relationship. The fire in your eyes for me had been put out and couldn’t be re-lit. I lost you and I thought it was my fault. I blamed myself for ever putting myself in a position where we made ourselves so vulnerable and susceptible to a terrible love. Everyday that passed without you by my side was terrifying and the days I saw you with her made me the most depressing shade of blue. The fire in your eyes had been lit by someone else and it saddened me to think that it couldn’t be me anymore. The sadness turned into a depression turned into a numbness.

When I was numb I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t hear anyone, and everyday turned into a routine of dragging myself out of bed pretending that I was ok and I will go on with my life. I would go on but I would still love you even after the terrible emotional instability I had been suffering from. Finally, I knew I needed to get on with my life. So I did it in the only way I knew I could; I got disgustingly drunk. I drank and I drank and then somewhere in the middle of my drunken state, I had a realization. Why was I so heartbroken by someone who couldn’t give me the time of day and ultimately didn’t give a fuck about my emotions? What the hell was I doing with myself? Why was I emotionally destroying myself over this shit? I realized I had no reason to be angry or upset or depressed because I realized I had him in my life. Somewhere in my depressive state, hungry for someones affection, I had met him and he fit a bill that hadn’t even been written up.

He became someone to me than I could even imagine at the moment. When I was with him, every terrible thought of you disappeared from my mind and I suddenly felt like I was breathing fresh air, like someone had pulled me out of the water and saved me from drowning. He made me feel things I had never felt before and had turned my melancholy sounds into a joyous opera.

I won’t go into detail about my happiness because you don’t deserve to know how my happiness. I thought you had ruined me when in reality you put me into a direction that led me to someone who is more amazing than you ever were to me. You filled me with hate and fear where he fills me with love and hope for a better me and an even better us. This is my thank you letter to you. My thank you for making me understand what I’m really worth and who I’m really worth. My thank you for the tear soaked and mascara stained pillow cases that led to a crave for affection. My thank you for leading me to him and making me see the beauty in not being with you. I hope this letter makes you understand how much instability you caused me and how your decisions affected me even when you took me out of your equation of creating the perfect life. I hope you realize how you ruined me and my image of myself. I hope you realize what you’re capable of and that you never do it to another person.

Thank you for helping me find him and leaving behind the person I had become when I was in love with you.


A Small Something On the Spot

I wrote a book with one thousand and ninety-seven pages.

The first page is about the day I met you.

The last page is about the day you broke my heart.

The one thousand and ninety-five pages in between are about every day I was in love with you. Head over heels, madly, hopelessly, and shamelessly in love with you.

I can remember the day we met, from the last day I saw you. I remember tiny details of small conversations. I remember the late nights spent talking and sometimes the talking for days on end.

I remember the times you would never talk to me and make me beg for your attention. I can feel the tear-filled nights like a fresh wound. I can remember every small dig you made into me and you having no idea.

There were days when you felt so close and days you felt a million miles away. Every hello was a blessing and every goodbye was said with a heavy heart. Days and days would pass and I wouldn’t see you and those would be lonely and slow. Then there came the day where you stopped coming around. The day when I didn’t know it was our final goodbye.

These one thousand and ninety-five pages are filled with these memories, both good and bad and the memories of what we were and what we are.

Page one is about the day I met you.

Page one thousand and ninety-seven is about the day you broke my heart.

After the last page was written, I took all of these pages and threw them into a fire. I threw them into a fire so these pages could never be re-lived and the pain could never be re-felt and the words can never be re-read.

I burned all one thousand and ninety-seven memories we had ever shared and I hope you can understand.

This is just something I came up with and it’s been on my mind for a few days after listening to the song Burn the Pages by Sia. By absolutely no means is this the next greatest thing since Nicholas Sparks wrote The Notebook, it was just something I wanted to give a try. Also, in total honesty, I’ll probably read through this a thousand times and update it and make changes just because it’ll probably bother me.