ruins of a broken heart | thg-competition

"It's the things we love most that destroy us."


2. ruins of a broken heart | english

“You tell me you were happier with him, but you want me to stay.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled it frustratedly. I couldn’t stand it anymore. It was as if my whole world was falling apart, and my head felt like it was on the verge of exploding. When I first found out about her being with another guy, without me ever knowing, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. But as I confronted her with it, I also got confirmation. She didn’t deny it but told me, on the contrary, that she had been happier with him, than she was with me. And despite that she still wanted me to stay with her. She wanted it all, everything, and she didn’t care about what anybody elses feelings. I never realized how selfish she was.

I guess I should have seen it from the very beginning, but I had been blinded by her. Blinded by her beauty, her laughter, her love. Or at least, what I thought was her love. I can’t believe I had been so naive. So blind. Obviously I had been the only one of us invested in our relationship, and the only one who actually put my entire heart in it, without any precautions. I had never thought that she could break it in such a way. Of course not, you never thought that. Afterwards you always think back and discover a lot of warning signs that should have alarmed you, but you can’t do that when you’re blinded by the powerful light of love, and falling in love. I had often thought about how much easier everything would be, if I could just turn back time. And forget that it was over. Back to before I found out about her ‘little’ secret. If I could just go back to then, I would still have her with me. I would be able to hold her in my arms, tell her that I loved her and hear her say it back. And maybe, just maybe, it would actually be true this time around. Maybe I would be able to keep her away from him, keep her from falling into his arms instead of mine. Maybe I could do everything better, if only I just got a second chance. Maybe we could do everything better this time.

I had thought that I knew everything there was to know about her, but that was obviously not true, since it apparently hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. Maybe if I just found out about every little detail of her life, her thoughts and her feelings, I would know how to be the best possible boyfriend - the best possible man - for her. She had been my whole world, and maybe I could actually become her whole world too. I wished for nothing else but to have her back. It would be a thousand times easier to deal with than the feeling I was left with now. Everything would. I was ruined inside and it was too late to change what had happened. Deep inside, I knew that. We were over, even though I didn’t want to realize it. I didn’t want to give up on us, even though I knew that I had to. I knew it was too late to go back to her now.

“You tell me that you needed time but you pushed me away.”

She had said that she needed a little time for herself, but that time she used to slowly push me further and further away. And while I thought that she was just going through a minor crisis, and therefore needed some time to be alone, really she was with him. She hadn’t been in need of time alone but on the other hand, she had been in need of time with him. Time with him instead of me. And I hadn’t known any better. On the contrary, I had gladly given her space and composure, so she could feel better. I had done what I need to do, to be the perfect boyfriend. Rather ironic, really. I would have given her everything and anything she could have asked for.

I just didn’t understand why she had done what she did. How could she have acted in such a careless way? If she wanted to be with him so much more than than she wanted to be with me, she could have just told me, instead of keeping it a secret and play with my feelings like that. She had treated me like I was just a piece of toy, something you could get rid of when you started to get bored with it. I guess I should have been angry with her. Jeg should hate her for her actions and what she had done to me. But in reality I was just sad. I mourned our lost relationship, and didn’t know how to handle the loss. I missed her. No, that wasn’t right. I missed the person I thought she was, not the person she had eventually turned out to be.

I was confused. Why had she decided that it wasn’t enough for her to just have him? Why did she have to have me too? Maybe a part of her actually loved me, however small. It was an explanation that made sense, without making her sound as bad as she could sound. Because it was somehow better than her just wanting me, simply because she was able to have me. But why did I even bother defending her, even to myself? It didn’t matter anyway. What she had done was definitely wrong, and that wouldn’t change no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise. I tried to remember what everyone told me time after time; that she was the one who had driven me away, not the other way around. But how could I possibly believe them, when I was clearly the one sitting here with an empty feeling inside? I was sick of all those ignorant people, thinking they had it all figured out. They thought I would feel better soon, and that time would heal all wounds. But they were wrong. I couldn’t be healed. She had always been the only one who could make me feel better, and now she was no longer here with me to make that happen. She wasn’t here to fix the situation. She wasn’t here to fix me. Me and my broken heart.

And she wasn’t going to come, either, because she was the one to blame for my broken heart. She had to know how I felt, but yet she hadn’t avoided it. She knew how her actions would affect me, she had to know. She knew me, after all. Time had proven that she apparently knew me even better than I knew her. I would never do anything to hurt her, and she had risked hurting me for a long time. And therefore she had pushed me further and further away from her, even though she may not even have realized it herself. Maybe her subconscious had felt bad about her behaviour, and had decided to slowly push me away, so I would just walk away. So she didn’t have to do the dirty work, by breaking up with me. I hoped that she at least had that decency, but I honestly wasn’t sure about anything concerning her anymore. I just knew that I had to let her go. Jeg had to destroy her hold of my heart. Her hold of my life. Until I did that, until I said a permanent goodbye to her, I couldn’t get my life back. The life she had taken from me, when she broke my heart.

“And when you try to take me back, my heavy heart just breaks.”

If there was anything I was certain of in my otherwise so uncertain state of mind, it was that you could never never know anything for certain. You couldn’t expect to know people, to know everything about them. I knew that now. She had tried to win me back, even after everything she had done - everything she had put me through. But I guess that was just what she did. She tried to weave me back into her web of lies and fantasies. Maybe she didn’t feel safe unless she had people who loved her everywhere around her. She wanted me back so she could feel better about herself. Why on earth would it worry her if I got more and more ruined every time she reached out for me, anyway? I had tried to convince myself that I was okay, just as much as I had tried to convince her. But with her, of course, I didn’t really have to make an effort, seeing as how she only heard what she wanted to hear anyway. She didn’t want to feel bad, and therefore she would never allow herself to understand how much she had hurt me.

She believed that naturally I was good, and that she could just come waltzing back into my life anytime. That if she did, I would follow her like a lost little puppy. That if she did, I would forgive her right there and then. But she was wrong. I was stronger than that. I had to be stronger than that. My heavy heart could barely keep beating now, so if I allowed myself to get weaved into her web once again, it would kill me. I wouldn’t survive the next time she broke my heart, I was sure of it. Or what was left of it anyway.

I woke up almost every night, incapable of breathing, and felt a small piece of my heart disappear each day I spent without her. I dreamt about holding her in my arms and never letting go of her again. But that was all they were; dreams. And I didn’t have the smallest chance to let go of her, as long as she kept holding onto me. I couldn’t even dream of moving on, until she let go of me and stopped trying. She had to stop trying to win me back. She couldn’t accept that I just wanted to get away from her, out of her life. She couldn’t just back away and let me go, because she couldn’t handle the feeling of having lost. And she believed that she had me wrapped around her finger, which of course wasn’t a complete lie. I tried to deny it, but I was weak. I had never been capable of resisting her.

All she had to do was say my name with her amazingly beautiful, melodic voice. And her laugh. Oh, how I loved her laugh. It sounded like little silver bells jingling in unison, like a perfect symphony. It wasn’t possible to be in a bad mood, when she laughed. She could make you light up, just with a few strophes of her harmonic laughter. It had an unreal effect on me. It mesmerized me. But naturally it wasn’t just her laugh that had that effect on me. It was the whole her. Her voice, her laughter, her eyes, her smile, her lips, her nose, everything. She was completely flawless, if you asked me. Her beautiful, brown eyes were complemented by her long, dark eyelashes, and they always lit up in such a kinda childish, cute way. She looked like she could never hurt a fly, and because of that I had never thought that she was even capable of hurting me so deeply. Her smile was so innocent and devoted, at I couldn’t stand when she was in a bad mood or sad. I couldn’t handle when she wasn’t smiling, because I could feel how I felt bad myself, simply because she wasn’t showing happiness. Her nose was always wrinkled in such an amazingly lovely way when she was smiling and laughing. It was small and delicate, and just as perfect as the rest of her. Her lips were voluminous and the perfect size. They were soft and warm, and no one could give the kisses she could. It was as if her lips were made solely to hand out kisses.

But of course she had handed out quite a bit of them, and not only to me either. I shuddered at the thought. She had kissed him and then she had kissed me with the same lips. Unbelievable that she could even live with herself. And as if it wasn’t enough that she didn’t even feel bad about it, she had even tried to win me back. I felt horrible just by the thought of it. I felt the tears roll down my cheeks, like an inexhaustible source. You would think that there wouldn’t be many more left, but somehow they just kept coming. She had said that she could change with time. But I couldn’t wait for her. My heart got shattered into a thousand little pieces, that could never be whole again, when she tried to win me back. Apparently it was true, that it was the things we loved the most that destroyed us. I couldn’t lift the weight of my heavy heart. All that was left of it, was the ruins. The ruins of a broken heart.

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