Day 2…

Today was spent being “sick” from work- (I’m pretty sure that being overtaken by vacuous space where love used to live definitely qualifies as an illness).

What has my day of moping and fast food and chick flicks taught me – apart from the fact that I have embodied every cliché of every romantic movie EVER.

1. I don’t actually hate HIM – I hate what he did and I hate how he made me feel. I can’t however untangle myself from the emotions and memories that we created – it is a confusing and painful cocktail. It’s funny the things you can’t forget. We created hundreds of moments together and I don’t know why one specific memory decides to keep replaying itself in my mind – like it’s stuck on a constant loop that I can’t pause.

This unrelenting memory seems trivial compared to the BIG moments. And yet it still keeps playing.

I had came home from a crummy day at work, had parked really far away from the house and after dragging myself through a giant hailstorm by time I got into the house I was furious. I know what you’re thinking – he had a million tea light candles or a dozen red roses. No.

He was microwaving a pizza in gym trousers looking tired but (I hate this bit) completely effortlessly cute. I slouched on the sofa and he breezed into the living room and handed me the spare key to my car.

“I researched how to fix your central locking and ordered the part for this key online. It should work now- you won’t have to fumble with the keyhole in the rain anymore” he said, as if it were nothing.

As I lay in bed that night realising that I had flippantly mentioned my annoyance about my keys months ago he reached across, placed his hands on my hip bones and gave a little squeeze. Then we went to sleep.

This memory keeps attacking me like an unrelenting wave: drowning and suffocating me.

I need to go to work tomorrow. I need to reclaim my life. I need to learn how to swim in these waters.

Misty x

 

Day 1….

“When I say I love you, please believe it’s true. When I say forever, know I’ll never leave you. When I say goodbye, promise me you won’t cry. Cause the day I’d be saying that would be the day I die.”

6 months ago “HE” wrote this on a little note and left it on a bedside table and gooey silly sentimental me honestly felt like I belonged in a Disney film and that everything was good and right with the world- any moment right now bluebirds will fly through my window and help me get dressed.

Now horribly broken bitter me sees it as a ridiculous ploy, a mask of deception a pathetic Google search of the word “love” brings that quote up straight away. Obviously he loves you so freaking much he picks the first quote he finds, nothing personal or romantic. I want to shake my stupid past self for falling for it.

One month ago while borrowing “HIS” phone as I couldn’t be bothered to charge my own- something that should be perfectly fine with someone you have been with for 4 WHOLE YEARS OF MY LIFE!!! Anyway as I  go to the key pad, blissfully unaware, a beeping sound comes through the phone.

I have know come to associate that beep with the breaking of my own heart – which is utterly inconvenient as every damned smart phone seems to have the same generic beep. At the moment a simple ride to work consists of (at last count) 85 heartbreaks. A never ending series of torturous little noises which create a visceral reaction where I feel all at once wounded, destroyed and completely pathetic. I hate myself for it.

What did this ominous beep mean? I hear you ask… 7 simple words.

I’ve always been a fan of words, I am an avid reader and have always kept diaries. I love how words are used to create new worlds- a sanctuary for the mind, to offer insights and opinions that you wouldn’t have been aware of on your own. I love how we craft our language to offer true representations of the emotions which consume us. Anger, love, sorrow – they can all be articulated so eloquently with use of the right words.

There must be irony in the fact that the written word I love was the first thing to pierce my heart so expertly.

“I miss you, sexy man of mine” 7 words from an unknown number

It took me a long time to type them: they are heavy with emotion. Saturated in my tears.

Of course he denied it.

Of course stupid past me believed it for a while.

It took all of 2 weeks for it to become clear that he was a lying, cheating, disgusting man child and all his promises and declarations were borrowed clichés that had no real meaning behind them.

So words, (his words of deceit, his words of untrue love, the words in THAT text) have broken me. I feel, right now in this moment, like the shredded skin of a snake. I was once an integral, intimate part of someone’s life- it seems unfathomable they could exist without my presence. And now I am shredded. Discarded. Left alone unnoticed to slowly disintegrate into nothingness. While the freaking snake gets to slither off all happy. God I hate him.

I am hoping that words will restore me, and maybe some others along the way. I’m hoping this diary will enable me to spill my proverbial heart onto the page so that I don’t always have to carry this raincloud of emotion with me.

I’m embarking on a new journey…I welcome any readers to join me for the ride.

Misty x