I won’t give you details. I won’t tell you deeply about my past loves. I won’t give you details here about my first boyfriend who dated me to make a friend jealous, and was then arrested for armed robbery. I won’t tell you about my next boyfriend, who became my fiance and was so angry at me for being raped while we were together that he hit me, called me a slut and refused to pay back money he owed me. That’s all my ex boyfriends. That’s all my experience with relationships. I know it’s not much, but it was plenty enough to teach me I’ll never actually be wanted.
I never felt that I was truly in love with either of them, but I told everyone I was. I was supposed to be in love; that’s what’s normal. It’s not normal for someone to be my age, and have had no romantic relationships, so in a desperate bid to be normal, I said I loved the men who said they loved me.
It’s been years since my fiance left me, and I’ve been alone since then.
I’ve actually felt love. I’ve felt so much love for two people since then. I’ve felt that my heart is on fire with joy when they speak to me; I’ve felt that all I want in life is their happiness. I’ve felt if they were cold to me I may actually shrivel and die.
The first one was over a year ago. That ended badly. I told that person how I felt, and was not let down at all gently. I felt my heart break… well, I felt difficulty swallowing, shallow breathing and chest pain, emotionally felt my life draining away and had no desire to eat for over a week. Felt a bit heart-breaky, really.
I feel so much love again, now. It’s mixed up with that same heart-breaky feeling. Absolutely literally pining, and if you know me you’ll know I don’t take the word “literally” lightly. If you don’t know me, I just told you, so now you know as well.
I feel sick.
Let me try to explain how I feel here. I flirt a lot. With everyone. It’s just what I do. If I don’t flirt with you it’s either because I hate you or we’re related by blood or both, but now I feel bad for flirting with people who aren’t him. I feel sort of heavy inside, check myself, and try to stop without seeming cold or unlike myself.
He’s on my mind all the time. I feel light and heavy inside, at the same time, every time I hear from him.
When is love, love? First touch? First kiss? First conversation? First time you look into their eyes? Is it real love if when they talk romantically about someone else, you feel your heart break, but you just want them to be happy and have all the love and rainbows and sunshine in the world, even if they don’t want it from you?
(I’m trying to approach this from an angle of humour, let me know if I accidentally touch anything remotely like a joke…)
Good God I feel broken! Not just my heart, but my spirit. I feel there’s pieces missing that will never be put back.
I’ve been crying pretty constantly for a few hours. Had a small coughing fit and realised I was sort of drowning in my own tears just a little bit, there. Elected to stop crying. Plan failed. Cried til I ran out of tears, instead.
Probably not normal.
I will never be a grown up, will I? I’ll forever be the fifteen year old girl I never really got a chance to be. As long as I am sore I will be petty.
I fully expect this to achieve nothing. I’m at peace with dying alone and being eaten by my cats, and frankly good on the cats, keeping themselves alive!
I feel a little better now. Still heavy and broken inside, and still torn apart by love, but better. If you read this far, well done, you!
Signed with love overflowing,
The Pretty Kitty