You, with sunken eyelids and tongue drowning in salted rims. Alcohol numbs your mouth to feel like your heart dressed up in foundation, covering the cracks. You, with lips dancing in laughter and eyes, pools of multicolored sadness. Nails painted and hands rough and calloused. I know you are trying your hardest. You think no one notices, but I do. I notice the way you tug at your clothes and bite your lips bone white until they chap. I notice the stray hairs you leave behind so you donāt feel so forgotten. I notice when you look away to wince in the middle of conversation because his words slide down your heart like bullets, yearning for a home that isnāt made of force. Time feels like nothing more than recycled memories. And you? You feel like garbage. I know you look down at your hands and wonder what would have happened if you kept giving him high-fives for hurting you. What would have happened if you never stood up for yourself. And Iāll tell you: yes, you would have one more friend. But you would have one more friend who leaves the door open when he leaves. He doesnāt lock the door behind him. He doesnāt care who could come in when you are sleeping. I know youāre sorry, but where is he now? In the end, he pushed you in and he let you drown. Maybe you were telling the truth when you convinced yourself that he wouldnāt have if he didnāt know you would always forgive him, but what can you do now? They tell you to forget him instead. But I know, how? Your head sounds like nails on a chalkboard and his laughter taunting your every move. You bang your head against the wall to forget, but you still remember how well he played off āI love you.ā Where do you put the love you lodged in the back of your throat? Where do you hide the secret smiles when your friends asked you if you found the one? Where did he tuck the kids he spoke of that you were too afraid to meet? He stripped your body of faith and gave it to somebody else. He used the lessons you taught him to love someone else better than he loved you. You, who hollowed out her stomach lining for him and hasnāt been the same since. You, with feelings pumping through your bloodstream like sparklers asks yourself: where do feelings go when they are forgotten? To you, it feels like they collect like dust in your abdomen. You donāt want it all to disappear. You donāt want to move on with nothing to show for all of the time and love you invested in him. You are capable of holding onto scars like the stars in the sky that take millions of years to burn out. The most massive stars can explode into supernovasā that is what he meant to you. And now your mind is a supernova, exploding his name in the sky. And even when everything is going well for you, you are still sad. I see it. Every day, you stitch yourself back together, but the wound is still there. I know you feel like you are made of the remains of fallen stars: something that was great once but is useless now. You feel like nothing more than an outline of what you are: a skeleton of fallen dreams and memories. But did you know a tortoise can survive in the desert by holding only one cup of water for a year? You can hold onto life when you feel as though all odds are against you. Even when you look at yourself in the mirror and see a figure you can stick your hand through, there is a heart inside that keeps on beating. Trees donāt cry when owls carve holes inside of them; instead, they appreciate the life that thrives in their core. You are more alive than you have ever been. I wish I could make you feel more capable, but I can promise you this: your bones are made of rubber bands, and someday, you will bounce back from this. Someday, you wonāt think of him anymore. Someday, you wonāt have to ask yourself where feelings go when theyāre forgotten, because someday, you wonāt be taken out like garbage. It might not be today, or tomorrow, or next month. But human beings have evolved to survive a lot of things. And you can survive this. You only have to want to. You only have to keep trying.
