You feel like you’re suffocating, like your lungs don’t work. You can barely gasp enough air in each breath to get any words out. You try to calm down but every time you get close the pain stings you again and you’re right back to feeling like you’re slowly dying. Dying. This has to be what dying feels like. You feel like you’re drowning. Like someone put you six feet under, close enough to see the surface but never close enough to get to the top and be okay again. You feel like this is the end. The end of everything you’ve ever known, or everything you care to remember.
You just want everyone to stop asking if you’re okay, because you’re not. How could you possibly be okay? It feels like your heart was just ripped out of your chest and ran over by a truck, a big fucking truck. The pit in your stomach just grows and grows, as you are so sick of hearing people to tell you to eat. You don’t want to eat. You’re literally sick to your stomach and the last thing you care about is eating.
How could he hurt you this way? What did you do to deserve this? How could you all the sudden feel so unloved and unlovable?
Your trust is gone. It felt like it was just ripped away from you without warning, almost like the sharp pain of a paper cut slicing open your finger, but a million times worse. It’s just gone, everything feels gone, and you feel exposed and raw. The wound feels so deep and you don’t know if a hundred stitches could fix the mess your in.
Hate starts to fill your heart. You never imagined that you could feel anger and hate towards him like this. You didn’t think he could ever do this to you. You expected so much more, but you were wrong. You were so, so wrong.
It doesn’t feel real; everything feels like a dream like all you have to do is open your eyes and this nightmare will end. But it won’t. You can’t understand how he could do this to you. He loved you, right? Someone who loves you doesn’t hurt you. At least not in this way. Playing too rough in a pick up basketball game is one thing; not calling you back is another, but this? How could you do this to you? How could he cheat on you?
With all this anger, all this hate, all this sadness and all this confusion that is engulfing your life right now I want you to know it won’t always feel like this. I promise you it won’t.
The tears that are running down your face like a faucet will slow down; they will slowly turn into a leaky faucet that only drips some times before it is fixed, maybe not completely, but enough to almost fix the problem. The weight that once manipulated you when you felt like you were being pulled six feet under will somehow, almost magically, start to dissolve and you will float to the top and breath normal again. You will start to feel like yourself again. Your appetite will come back and you will go out to eat with your friends again and you will laugh.
You will start to enjoy your freedom again. You will start to trust again. You will start to love again. Because you are not unlovable and you are not unworthy of someone treating you the way you deserve to be treated. And yes, you do deserve to be treated a certain way because you went through hell and fought your way back.
Time heals all wounds they say, and I believe they’re right for the most part. But I also know that you can’t speed up time, no matter how much you wish it would go faster, no matter how bad you want the pain you’re feeling to start fading away.
But it will get better, I promise you.