Just Like Honey.

I wish I could say that I was a truly happy person. Contradictory to the persona I assume in my day-to-day life,  there is a role that is played out in my head; I must never hurt, or let others know that I am hurt. A silly mantra, I know, but it 's something that is imperative to my nature. In the past, I often felt isolated from the larger part of my peers; this resulted in even more annoyance. I have never fancied myself superior to others, although I know it may appear that way, it is just far easier for my ambivalent nature if I keep my distance. This has always been a struggle in my life. I often felt envious of others who found society so easy to interact with. Happier within, I lost myself in my imagination often taking long walks along the creek behind my house. How terrifying it is to be able to withdraw so far into your own psyche. I know it is cliché but you really can become your own worst enemy.

This past weekend I experienced one of these episodes. I allowed myself to doubt my worth, even my entire existence. I felt suffocated from my own fear that I had destroyed everything I held dear. After collapsing into tears on a west Philadelphia street one night, I realized how close to reckless abandonment I was. My boyfriend held me, reassuring me that I was beautiful, smart, amazing, and loved. He even called my mother so she could tell me the same. I felt childish in my need for affection, until I realized how seldom in the past I had ever received it. ­I have always been able to just survive; exuberance was never my forte or my desire. So when it is received I feel strange, and unworthy of its commitment. It was only when my boy pulled me into an embrace telling me that it was okay that I was broken; that two broken people could be in love and somehow everything would be right, and perfect in their small little world, that a consciousness came to me. It was a promise, telling me that what we had was beautiful. This made me feel exalted, at that moment I could feel every inch of my body electrify my senses, reminding me that I was alive. After this relief, I realized that I could finally appreciate everything he was telling me. It was entirely refreshing to have this reassurance, that another could love my small broken heart enough to fix it. I felt shaken both from my tears and from the veracity of his love for me.  

I realized this weekend, that I’m ashamed of how often I doubted my boy. I feared losing him to the same thing I lost him to before. This overshadowed everything in my eyes, and it has taken a year for me realize that his love has been there the entire time. I wanted so much to be important in his life, that my doubt is the only reason I couldn’t believe it.

I no longer shutter when I think of that day one year ago that we were ended our relationship for an unbearable week; it no longer hurts my heart to remember the betrayal. I was lied to, hurt, and cheated on. Someone tried to take my heart away, I just had to have faith that he would return to me unscathed. I know now that he never stopped loving me, it was always there. It was just clouded by confusion and false promises.

I know that I am not healed, that my wounds will most likely stay with me for the rest of my life. But I'm realizing that I can learn to conquer them, no longer letting them suffocate and violate within.

 

"Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them."  -Tolstoy