forget the storms we danced through.
You’ll find a nice girl
to fall into peace with
and you’ll forget about the days
we lost our minds together.
I’ll be across the world
and still know the exact moment
I’ll pretend that I don’t
and I’ll forget you
the way I forget every dream
I’m not brave enough for.
I’ll meet someone who reminds
me of the years I gave my best
to a boy who held me like he meant it.
And I want you to know that it
could have been you.
That it almost was you,
but we didn’t know how to be good for each other
and how to stay that way.
In another world, it is you,
and we’re better for it.
I hope you know that I wanted that.
That a part of me always will.
Blood shot eyes and messy words, she was not the girl she swore she could never let him make her.
It’s as if in a single moment she was sixteen again, a familiar sting of a broken heart, and the same choice stretched across the road in front of her. Smeared make up and a throbbing heart aren’t the nostalgia we go searching for, but lately, it was all could find.
She held back another breath of tears. There had already been too many in his name. But you can’t choke back that throbbing, you can’t hold back that burned image of his hand in hers. That’s what she was left with - his empty promises still hung above her head and beckoned her to fall again.
I don’t have the cure for a broken heart. I would think by now I would have found even a piece of the remedy that soothed the aches and groans. So I don’t have the answer, but what I do have is this - tiny, yet life changing moments between the flutters and throbbing beats that remind me that my worth and my value are not dependent on whether or not the “choose” me. They are moments like a sunrise, or a smile from a stranger, the autumn breeze, or the perfect song. They are moments that interlude the silence and remind me that I really am okay.
She fought for years to pick up the pieces they had left her heart in, but she never quite finished before he came along and offered to hold it for her, to protect it, to help her make it whole again. She left the power, yet again, of her own heart in the hands of another. She fell for his blue eyes and six-foot-three physique.
The year would pass, and soon enough she would be left with more pieces to fit back together. Even more broken than when he found her, she stumbled over promises and hope as she gathered the pieces of her broken heart.
it wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was the one who promised to fix her, and here she was, picking up the mess he left her in.
People have the power to break our hearts, and as open and ready we want to be for love, we also have to be okay with saying no to what we know has the poison to break us again. We are not weak because we choose to guard our hearts, we are strong because we are willing to protect what we know to be worth so much more.
So why do we allow the ones who break our heart have the power to still hold it when we have worked so hard to put it back together?
She vowed, over all those broken pieces, that she would be her own hero. She would mend her own heart. As she picked up the twice shattered pieces, she wrote it on her heart that she would have the courage and the strength to walk away from everything she knew to break her or ask her to settle.
As she sat on her bedroom floor, sifting through the left over letters and faded photographs, she knew what she had to do. She had to take back her heart, reclaim her story, and start fighting for what she knew she deserved. No more ultimatums, no more settling, no more broken hearted drives at midnight. She was going to fight.
It’s a fearful challenge to stand on your own. To guard your heart but still be open to the possibilities.
As the rain fell and the wind hushed the world around her, she slowly started giving up - but all at the same time, she knew she would be okay, because even the sun has a place to shine among the clouds.
We have survival in our bones, but what I ache for you to find is the will in your soul.
You see, a broken heart almost took my life, and no matter how many tears that fall, I vow to never again let another person’s choosing or not choosing of me dictate my decision to live.
People have the power to break us, but we don’t have to hand over our shaky shambles of a heart and give them permission to do so. Take care of your heart. Even as you wear it on your sleeve, guard it. You deserve to walk away from what you know to only be poison to it’s being.
Maybe this wouldn’t be the last time she wiped tears from her cheeks, but she vowed to never again let her worth be dictated by another.
Her heart was hers, and she was going to fix it and she was going to watch it thrive in her own hands.
She knew and she trusted in the promise that there was another out there for her, and the last thing she wanted was to miss out on the love in his eyes because she was too busy cleaning up the mess of half-hearted promises and hope.
There was going to be a hand that was going to reach out to her, and rather than taking her heart right from her hands, he would simply place his hand over hers and trace the heartbeats with his own, vowing to never make her question his love for her or her own worth.
Someone is going to love the broken right out of you, but you will never be able to see or accept their hand with the tear stains of the last still lingering by. Allow not only your heart but your mind to let go. Allow your very bones to let go. Their imprinted fingertips, their whispering voice, their soothing touch, their heartbeat on yours - let it go with the wind. You deserve to shed that layer, and you deserve more than ever the love that is waiting for you.