It was this unseen pain you would always feel for the rest of your life.
Like a scar or a serious injury, part of it would stay with you forever.
It's funny--and when I say funny, what I really mean to say is that it is a little morbid and deranged--that love is so often combined with pain.
I was surprised and a little delighted that thoughts about you now were not accompanied by the dull ache I was so accustomed to greeting, like a tireless visitor from next door. My anger had all but dissolved. Your outline in my mind was fuzzy, your hole in my heart shrunken.
Your fate was your own, and I desired no part in it, no longer hungered for your unhappiness. I shook the shackles of you off my heart. So this is what it feels like to be free
And how many tears did it take?
The answer is too many.
I began to realize you were no more than distant wound now, no longer aching when it rained, but rather an ugly, bumpy scar that was painless and complete. The cycle of healing was now over.
You never forget your first loves, but sometimes you do learn to unlove them. Be warned, it is a painful process, and often takes longer than you like. It is generally riddled with unhappiness, self-doubt, and deep searing pain. For those of you that have had to learn to unlove and let go, I'm truly sorry. It tears you up. But like a bike accident, you can heal. Hopefully you haven't endured too much damage, but odds are you will be close to your limit. Myself...I suffered for...around 3 1/2 years? I've known some that have suffered for close to 8. Try to let it go, try to let it pass, try to heal as soon as you can.
Easier said than done, I know.
"It's hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off!"
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