When Holding On Hurts More Than Letting Go

I'm Priscilla
I’m Priscilla

It’s almost painful how we make homes out of people we knew had no intention of staying.

Who had no interest in mining the caves of your mind, who had no intention in planting wildflowers in every crevice, and waiting patiently to see them bloom.

Who would rather grab hungrily at your clothes than caress the depths of your soul.

Who will take your honesty and trust and misuse them like broken plates on hardwood floor.

But it’s more painful how the mind fails to catch up to the heart.

See, the heart knows.

The heart knew from the onset that this person was not interested in holding your heart with a softness and gentleness you needed.

Your heart knew from his first look at you that he would never afford you the compassion, empathy, and kindness that you needed to fully unpack you bags and make a home in him.

Your heart knew.

That’s why every time you thought about reaching out or asking for his time or opening up, your heart winced and cringed at the prospect.

Your heart knew better than you did that he didn’t admire the parts of you that didn’t glitter.

Your heart knew he valued your beauty and your looks

But he didn’t ache for your soul, for your 4 am thoughts, for late night adventures that existed outside your bedroom.

But your mind held on.

Held on with a ferociousness and a desperation that it could not contain.

It held on until your hands were bruised, until your brow shined with the glint of sweat, until your body teetered on the edge of exhaustion.

It held on for dear life, even as the ship was sinking and water was rising to your knees.

All the while that it held on, the heart broke.

It broke and winced and sobbed because you were breaking your own heart.

Trying so hard only to be regarded with apathy.

Settling for tired hands and a half hearted peck on the mouth when you yearned for passion and longing.

Searching in the pile of unsubstantial conversations for one teardrop worth of meaning that would suggest he still cared.

Waiting and hoping and aching for him to turn around and care enough to say it, imply it, or even just want to see you.

And you know you would have settled for lust.

For feverish kisses that taste your mouth, but not your hurt.

For hands that will grip your curves until bruises appear, but fail to ever really hold you or make you feel secure in his grasp.

For passion that lights up the room for only a moment, just to be extinguished as soon as he’s done.

Then he’s off, with no promises of love or care.

With no flowery declarations of tomorrow, he knows he didn’t need to lie for you to take him.

But you took what you could get

Because in your efforts to follow your heart and leave him for good, you waited

You lingered a second too long.

Then you glanced over your shoulder and looked back at him

For half a second maybe

But it was all it took for you to see he didn’t even look your way

He was already looking to the next

He didn’t take half a step in your direction or call your name in the distance.

He let you walk away because he too was walking away.

To love that was easier


More willing to accept his ways

Love that didn’t voice its inconstancies or discontent.

A love that accepted his status quo and held its arms open despite his half lies and empty truths.

So you turned around and chased him.

You tried to get his attention, you asked outright, you held your hand out hoping he would grab it.

But he didn’t, he stayed halfway in the door, not ready to let you move on but leaving no promises of coming back.

He regarded you coldly, like you were wasting his time.

But your palm remained turned upright, just looking for one signal, one drop of meaning that showed he cared deep down.

You realized he wanted you to grovel

To beg

To make heated declarations of want and desire

To feed his ego

Because he simply did not care enough

Not to ask for you back

Not to ask to see you

Not to show you the least bit of respect and decency.

But when your hand began to fall with exhaustion

With your heart breaking inch by inch

For waiting for the impossible

He floundered

He reached his hand just a bit

He dropped hints that he still cared

But you couldn’t break your own heart for hints

For implications

For assumptions

You needed a love that yelled its devotion from the rooftops

But he couldn’t even whisper it in your ear.

So you had to let him go.

You had to turn back to your journey and take it one step at a time

Even if your legs trembled. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

More From Thought Catalog