Falling in love was easy. So was falling out. It happens, *Snaps*, between the snap of my fingers. Like abracadabra. Honestly. So for me, the broken hearted one, I have never thought too much into how to get into the next relationship, cause I am at that point where I am comfortable being alone right now.
My heart is an anxious vessel full of lonely nights and scribbled pages. My heart is a long narrative of empty promises and false hope. My heart has experienced the complete euphoria and abandonment that comes with falling in love. And my heart has fallen and shattered at the feet of the one that I loved so dearly. But my heart is resilient and it is healing. It is safe and it is getting stronger.
It totally speaks for my heart right now. The fact that we have been spinning and fall in love and be so hopelessly romantic about it. Has come to an end, whereby our heart has gone from paradise: to straight hell where every breath you take it feels like dagger right into the heart and you can’t seemingly tell yourself you will be alright again.
Sitting in a room full of familiar faces and all you want to do is to head home to your bed and crash and cry till you realise your pillows are all soaking wet. Yet you push the edges of your lips to smile and laugh like everything else is normal.
Hold on babies, you will get there, where you will smile at yourself on how silly you’ve let yourself suffered and slowly the weight will be lifted, you’ll be. Cherished, loved and pampered again. This time by someone who will never disappoint you: Yourself.
Till then, I love you all. You will get there I pinky promise.