My last heartbreak.
My last heartbreak was a kick in the nuts. (Yes, I don’t have nuts but boy, did it hurt.) For the past two days, I feel like I have been living it again.
I tried to make sense of my feelings. I tried looking for things I wrote during that time so I can better understand myself but I can’t find anything. I saw some things that I’m sure were about him but nothing I wrote myself. The reason is because, God, I was broken. I remember doing a lot of things to help me forget but sadly, writing made me remember.
We were friends.
I think I always knew that I didn’t have a chance with him.
I think I always knew that he would never care for me as much as I cared for him.
I think I always knew that I will always be just a friend to him.
I knew these things but the knowledge didn’t stop me. I continued caring for him, giving him time, teaching him, because helping him get better made me happy.
For me, that’s love in its purest form.
At that time, I taught myself that I label my feelings. I never called it love. But maybe, I did love him a little.
World, it will always be a personal insult to me that he ended up with her.











