A Complicated Pile of Thoughts

And that’s when I understand that I have been stained. Whether I’m still in love with him, whether he was ever in love with me, and no matter who he’s in love with now, he changed my life. He showed me how to get lost, and then I showed myself how to get found.

When he says He doesn’t love you anymore, Roll your shoulders back And look him in the eye Smile And ask him why he didn’t leave you sooner. Tell him that there are boys Who would be proud to say they’d loved you. Tell him that in two years You won’t even remember his name If he did not know how to love you the first time, He won’t know how to do it the next.

The hardest part about walking away from someone is the part where you realize that, no matter how slowly you go, they will never run after you.

We could do ourselves a tremendous favour by letting go of the people who poison our spirit.

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh. He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs. I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse. At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride. Like a girl. Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed, and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it, because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices. But then he laughed again and all I saw was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist. (my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.) When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles, I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously just because I’m a girl. Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big. Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary. Be small and smooth with soft edges and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts: the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having, the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission. Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car, because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway. We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street who see us as convenient bodies instead of people. Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft, so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling, pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are. We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths, because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls. Once, I got told I punched like a girl. I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

1. When a boy who leaves goosebumps on every inch of your skin tries to play you his favorite song, don’t let him. He’ll get it stuck in your head and under your fingertips and when he leaves, you won’t be able to listen to it without feeling like you’re choking. 2. Don’t let him touch you all over no matter how much you want to feel him against you. Leave a few spots untouched so that when you’re sleeping alone again, at least your left wrist and an inch of your right hip won’t sting with the remaining burn of his mouth. 3. Don’t let him break your ribs. 4. Don’t watch the sunset with him. He’ll poison it. You won’t be able to look at the sky without swallowing a mouthful of him. 5. Don’t mistake wasps for butterflies. Sometimes when you feel your stomach flutter and your hands start to shake it’s pain, not love. 6. Just because he tells you he loves you doesn’t mean he’s going to stay. 7. It’s okay to delete his number after he kisses the pretty girl he met when he was drunk. It’s okay to leave when he hurts you. You don’t have to keep falling into him. 8. When he tells you that you’re beautiful, try to remember that you were beautiful before him too. 9. Just because he reads and smokes cigarettes and talks about the stars doesn’t mean he’s your soulmate. 10. After you kiss him, remember to wash your mouth out right away so he doesn’t burn into your tongue. 11. He’ll kiss you in the rain and take you to little coffee shops. He’ll brush your hair out of your eyes and kiss your nose. He’ll grab your waist and whisper in your ear but six months later you’ll find yourself drunk texting him that you miss him and he won’t respond. 12. Your heart is going to break a million times. It’s going to feel like the world is falling apart around you. Your lungs will stop working some nights. You find yourself grabbing at your bones trying to hold yourself together. You’re going to feel like you’re dying. It’s going to be okay. You’ll find someone else to kiss you goodnight.

Two other women, also breast cancer survivors, said their husbands left them after they were diagnosed. Both had to have mastectomies (in case anyone doesn’t know, this is the surgical operation to remove one or both breasts). The first woman said her husband told her that he would rather see her dead than see her lose her breasts. The second woman had her operation and waited all day to be picked up by her husband, who never arrived. By nightfall, one of the nurses offered to give her a ride, and she came home to find the house empty. Obviously, these are extreme cases of a man’s reaction to his wife’s breast cancer, but this is what I see when I see the “I ♥ Boobies” bracelets. I see love of the body parts, not the person being treated—not the patient, not the victim, not the survivor.

No matter how good things are, there will always be solitary nights you spend in your bedroom, in a car, or in a party full of your closest friends when it feels like the walls are caving in.