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heartbreak

RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #30 of 45: What Hurts the Most

by Angela

(NOTE: Inspired by a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)

To Girlfriend,

What hurts the most.

It may be the realization I was wrong. I thought I was the special core of your world, an unshakeable center held and cherished. That storms could come, waves could rise and crash, winter could fall bitterly cold, fires could tear across the land, but in it all I would be unharmed. Protected. Sheltered. You would never let me burn to the ground. You would never tolerate my pain. Woe to anyone who tried to hurt me, they would have to deal with you.

So it shook me. It shook me when you found a new center and I was pushed out of orbit, left to find my own way. It shook me when I was standing before you, in pain, in heartbreak, in desperation, losing myself, heart bloody in my hands, and your eyes could not see me. You would not protect me, you protected her first. And now I feel you are willing to demolish me for Girl. To annihilate me for Girl. To sacrifice our entire life for Girl. I am not the princess I thought I was. And you are not the protector I thought you were. 

What is crazy is you say you still love me, that you have not stopped loving me. You say you still want me in your life, you still want our life, but your words mean so little when I am wholly eclipsed by the blazing, intoxicating glory of what is new, of her. I find myself standing in shadow, alone, drifting through the darkness and freezing void of space, when I was so certain I was your sun. This does not feel like love.

You are capable of hurting me. You are capable of tossing me aside. You are capable of taking someone else and making them everything. You are capable of being so blind I could unravel right in front of you and you will do nothing. You are capable of watching me die to save Girl instead. I do not know if these things are true, but they FEEL true. And it sucks. 

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PoemRelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #29 of 45: “Ocean”

by Angela

“Ocean”

I did not expect starseed recognition,
for the constellations in her eyes
to chart your way home.

I did not expect her artist fingers
to paint coincidence as serendipity,
or sculpt moments into such miracles

it seemed God must be at the wheel
steering me from my place
as the center of your world.

I did not expect you to find
the skeleton key to your soul
dangling from her collarbone.

To find your native language
dancing on her tongue,
your future in her daydreams,

and your wishes in every tooth
placed under her pillow.
Aren’t you just SO aligned?

I did not expect her to be your muse, 
the Beatrice to your Dante
in the tome I thought was ours.

I did not expect the deluge of texts.
For her words to tuck you in at night
and be your sunrise every morning,

no bank robber has ever held
a hostage like her three dots blinking
on your screen.

I did not expect to watch a movie
of our love story beginnings,
but find her standing in my place

with a script meant for my lips.
There is something so humbling
about losing the lead in your own show.

I did not expect the coldness in your 
voice to fill my lungs with ice,
turning my breath to crystal daggers,

freezing discordance in my throat.
I did not expect for you to pull 
my anchor from your sands,

to let me capsize as I felt
your tidal waves of emotion
roll through me to her shores.

I did not expect to become yesterday’s paper
or last night’s moon
invisible in the light of a new day.

I did not expect so violently
wanting to escape. How I’d
scream at the sky or want to

bury myself in the ground,
nails caked with dirt from
scratching your name out of my existence.

I did not expect for my protector
to become my greatest danger.
No warning signs were posted

to signal the expiration date
of every promise you ever made.
I did not expect to sit beside you

in solitary confinement,
your absent attention thicker
than any concrete wall.

I did not expect to be lost
with no compass or flint,
with no starlight or path

in a wilderness I’ve never tasted
in a country I’ve never known.
I did not expect you’d be so willing

all Cupid needed was a spitball
to shoot you up so high
you could not help but fall in love.

I did not expect I’d end up spending 
every minute of the day 
trying to decide:

Do I go or do I stay?
Do I hate or do I love?
Do I lock or do I open?

Do I burn or do I rise?
Do I drown 
Or do I become the ocean?

I become the ocean.
I become the ocean.

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RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #28 of 45: “How Can I Still Like Her?”

by Angela

(NOTE: Inspired by a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)

And today, in the pouring rain, Girl asked for help, strands of wet hair criss-crossed on her face. So I reached for them, my fingertips brushing against her cheek, and I thought “I still like her. Even after the pain of it all, I still like her. What is this life?” 

What is this world where I want what I cannot have?
Where who I want wants the same person?
Where my love is held by this girl, and this girl is held by my love. and I am on the sidelines
watching,
just watching,
waiting for nothing. 
Letting it hurt,
letting pain roll in
like the tide.

(NOTE: I believe this was the last time I thought I was attracted to Girl, you know, LIKE liked her. And I don’t know if I ever actually liked her, I may have just been attached to her, and my mind translated that as attraction because it was the closest category that made sense. I think I also really WANTED to like her.

Because if I was not attracted to her, our situation turned from the somewhat interesting idea of Girlfriend and I finding the same person alluring, OOooOOoo so fun and different, into the super lame situation of Girlfriend and Girl being infatuated with each and… the end. Even though it hurt, “My partner likes my crush, and my crush likes my partner,” was easier to deal with than “My partner and some chick seem to be falling in love.”

Also, if I had no romantic feelings for Girl, they had no reason to attempt to include me. The laughable throuple-esque notion would be dead and gone, and I would have just had a girlfriend who had a new girlfriend she seemed to like better than me. I preferred letting them, and myself, think I wanted the throuple-y friendship. Not that it changed anything. Or maybe I just liked that it made me more victim-y, therefore making Girlfriend feel guiltier, because she was not only abandoning me, but also hanging out with someone I liked. Double guilt.

Again, we were never actually a throuple. They were never officially a couple. Just in case you forgot.)

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RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #24: “Moment of Clarity”

by Angela

(NOTE: Inspired by a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)

An epiphany I had while very sick, and attempting to boost my immune system by lying down on the grass and dirt in the middle of the backyard. Yes, all the neighbors were like “What the?”

To Girlfriend:

I see it now.
I see it clear as day.
I think Girl is acting like my friend because I am yours.
And that is the only reason.
And Girl is not even doing a good job.

I think the truth of it is:
Girl does not care if she hurts me.
Girl is more than willing to hurt me.
Girl is eager to hurt me.

I do not matter
because Girl wants what she wants,
and there is nothing more to expect from her 
than this.

And the pain is holding what I think I know,
but seeing you want to give her everything,
wanting to spend a lifetime with her,
this girl who seemingly wishes 
I did not exist.
Perhaps wishes
you were alone.
and I know it,
and she knows it, 
and I feel like you know it, too.

That is why the Universe gave me perplexing feelings for her,
that is why the Universe draws me to her.
So I do not hate her.
So I do not despise her.
So I do not pluck her from our lives.
So I do not hurt her
the way she seems ready to hurt me.

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RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #23 :”More Angry Poem Rants”

by Angela

(NOTE: Pulled from a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)

“Lost”

She is your muse.
She is your sunshine prism.
She is your diamond,
and I am your rock,
solid beneath your feet
carrying you so you may
reach your arms upwards to her.

Everything you do is for her,
your creations, your memes, your art,
so she sees, so she hears, so she knows,
and I am pushed to the edge of your universe,
a nameless star.

How do I do this?
How do I walk this broken-glass path, 
shards of everything I thought we were, of everything I thought I was.
How do I do this?
How do I breathe in and out 
with lungs made of lead, and air thick with the ashes
of our life that has been burned to the ground?
How do I move these bones rattling in my skin?
What do I do with this heart scraping my ribs,
scratching the flesh of my chest,
carving “THERE IS NO SAFETY HERE!”

There is no solace here.
There is no love here.
There is no her here.
There is no you here.
Just me.

Just me in this fucking empty hall
with no one to hear my knees hit the ground,
with no one to lament my shredded-flesh feet,
with no one to bandage my bleeding soul.

“No Power”

You both tell me I have the power
and I laugh, because what power is this?
To plunge you both into misery?
To switch off the warmth of your suns?
To submerge you into the pain I feel every damned second of every damned day?
The power to make you both resent me? To make you both hate me?
The power to take away “the person you’ve waited for your entire life?”
The power to make it impossible, so you leave me so it can be possible again?

THERE IS NO POWER HERE.

I have no power.

Dear Angels, dear Masters, dear Guardians, Mother Gaia,
how do I do this?
How do I show up tomorrow and the day after that?
How do I live this life where my love has become nothing?
How do I live in this Universe where the love of my life revolves around someone else?
How do I let this girl into my home?
How do I let her gifts sit on our shelves?
How do I speak to her when she rejects my words?

Our years have become a joke.
Waiting for this anniversary to come.
Waiting for what?
Blazing pain?
To watch you and her unable to get enough of each other?
To watch you and her drawn together like magnets?
To find out I am nothing after all?
To hear you say nice words, but see your actions betray you at every turn?
The actions that betray the lies you are living?

“She is just a friend.”
“She is just my muse.”
“She is just my crush.”
Yes, she is JUST the single reason for everything you fucking do and every thought you fucking think and there is NOTHING I can do. 

You do not see me. 
You do not hear me.
So I just keep walking, and hope I make it through.

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RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #20: “I Will Live”

by Angela

(NOTE: Written about an experience in the past, does NOT reflect the present.)

To Girlfriend

Last night I fell apart 

because I saw a map of your new world

and she was in the center.

It took me hours

just to find my name.

We stopped sleeping with our phones a year ago, choosing to not slumber in pure EMF soup, but now your phone is missing from its overnight cushion. I know where it is. It is in your hand, or beside you, or glowing somewhere near your head, EMF-ing your brain, just so you do not miss a single text from her. 

It seems your whole day and mood are determined by Girl’s actions. And it makes me angry, watching you in the palm of her hand. It makes me angry, seeing you seemingly controlled and manipulated. I am angry at her. I am angry at you. I am angry at me for being angry. I am angry at me for still being here.

So I focus on the kids, I talk with them, I laugh with them, I find a little joy, I find myself again for a minute, outside of you. I find space, and in the space a little peace. 

It is what it is, and exactly how it should be, and I am searching for how I can be happy right now with life just as it is? And there it is. Calm.

I fear the imminent return of sadness, the return of pain, but I do not want to live from fear. I want to live from love. And I know pain is temporary, I know I am strong enough for this, I know I can do this, whatever this is. I am a Warrior Queen, and I will live.

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RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #10 of 45: “When Spirit Makes a Promise”

by Angela

(NOTE: Inspired by a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)

ANOTHER NOTE: This series includes quite a bit of Spirit talking. And what I call “Spirit” refers to an inner voice, a higher voice, the Universe, my guides, something inside of me and beyond me. It is not a ghost.

I feel like I am drowning.

I cannot do this

I cannot do this

I cannot do this

It is unfair, and I cannot do this

There is too much being asked of me, and I cannot do this

I CANNOT DO THIS

But I am meditating, tears rolling down my cheeks, and I hear Spirit:

“On the other side is beauty, on the other side is radiance, on the other side is joy and freedom unimaginable. If you could only see the bliss just on the other side, you would delight in this moment. You are getting everything you want, trust, stay the course, you will emerge from this a diamond. This pain, it will be worth it. That is our promise to you. It will be absolutely, wholly worth it. It is not for you to understand in this moment, but you will see in time. You will see. TRUST.”

“If you could only see the bliss just on the other side, you would delight in this moment.” 

I repeat this to myself over and over, I write this in my journal, it becomes my flicker of light in the following days, weeks, months of darkness. I had no idea what the bliss would be. I had no idea what the journey to the other side would feel like, nor how long it would take, but I knew I was to find trust and keep finding trust. So I made that my mission. These words kept me moving forward. 

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RelationshipThat Hard, Bizarre Thing Series

That Hard, Bizarre Thing #9 of 45: “Can’t Sleep”

by Angela

(NOTE: Written about an experience in the past, does NOT reflect the present.)

To Girlfriend.

It seems Girl is saying she feels about you the way you feel about her. I heard it because I had my ear pressed to the door when she rushed over to answer you. 

She likes you too.

Duh, she likes you too.

I already knew she liked you too.

And now it is all out there and you are sky high, soaring with shooting stars, high-fiving the moon, and I am… What is the opposite of sky high? Oceans low? Deep seas low? I am deep seas low. The part of the sea where that creepy fish with the antennae flashlight lives. The Anglerfish. I am fucking floundering in the deep with the spooky-ass Anglerfish.

Can I believe in a feast of choices, that you will still choose me?

Can I believe in the midst of fresh infatuation, the sun beam of new romance, that you can see me at all?

Can I believe I can live without you?
Do I dare let you choose me every day?

Do I dare believe, without the rules and confines of monogamy and traditional relationships, that you will stay?

Can I relinquish all certainty where I feel most vulnerable?

How do I be okay?

How do I be okay?

What fresh hell is this? 

Where my crush looks to be falling in love with the love of my life, and the love of my life is falling for my crush, where is there to go, where is there to hide, how do I fucking be okay?

There is nowhere to run.

So I sit here with my heart pounding me awake.

I sit here in my pitch black fears.

I sit here naked and terrified, cold and alone.

I sit here with no path forward except straight into the pain. 

Just straight into the pain.

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