You will never know what you did to me. It’s too much, too complex and too painful for you to even loosely grasp what my life had become when you walked out that door.
Though I’ve written it into words a thousand times, you will never fully realize what it was like to feel my broken heart.
I could bleed onto these pages, write it into rhythms, turn this emptiness into art, but you will always have the fortunate pleasure of not knowing what it was like to grieve us.
I could scream my heartbreak from the highest mountaintops or publish my sorrows to the digital galaxy for millions to gaze at and you would still not be able to feel the oozing wound of unrequited love.
Even if I were to take your face in my hands, look into your light blue eyes and say to you with the most gut-wrenching sincerity that these scars will never fully go away, you would still have no idea what it’s like to despise waking up in the morning because you don’t want me anymore.
And not only will you never know, you will never understand, which are two very different concepts.
Though I have molded our love into metaphors and outwardly worn my pain, like makeup on my face, there is no way for you to comprehend the depths I saw.
If I were to shoot you with an arrow or a bullet, or violently stab you with the sharpest of knives, you would cry, scream, and demand medication, but you would not understand the pain I felt when you spoke those hurtful words.
When someone who you fall for with every molecule of your existence rips your heart right out of its chest, you will finally know what I mean. When you can look at a girl the way I looked at you, and love her under any conditions, when you find your best friend and significant other in one person, and she pulls the rug from underneath your feet, you will understand.
But I hope no one ever does this to you. It’s a pain I would not wish upon the cruelest of hearts. But that’s not why I never want you to experience this hurt.
A part of me does. A part of me wants you to break like I’ve broken. There is a small fraction of me that needs you to feel what I went through.
But most of me never wants that for you, simply because I still care about you very much. You will always remain a part of my heart, and how could I wish this evil onto someone who I once saw as my everything? In a weird way, I’ll always love you.
You will never be able to walk in the dark soles of my past. Part of that being because I am not that tortured soul any longer.
I have risen up from the trenches of despair. I have become so much more than the tattered remnants of a love that once was. I have discovered a girl who is stronger than the hurt she once felt.
I love the person I am now. And though it took hitting rock bottom in order to get to this point, I am so grateful that I had this experience of seeing my true character.
So while you’ll never know what it was like to brace the storm that was my broken heart, you’ll also never know the person that I have come to be, and for that I am truly sorry.