"But, baby, I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor, you know
I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah"
(Jeff Buckley)
My heart is like a house. I opened its door wide when you came into my life even though I was with someone that time. It was easy for me cause you blew me away from the first moment we met. I let you walk in and stroll through the rooms without hesitation or doubts. Soon you moved in and brought your stuff that we carefully placed into each room of my heart. Each piece found its fitting place. I knew that you brought some heavy stuff and burdens too; I could see and feel it when you carried it in. Some cabinets were tightly closed indeed and you let me know that some might not be opened or need time to be unclosed.
Living with you fullfilled my heart; its rooms were permeated by light ever since you came and felt warm and home. With every piece you brought in my heart felt getting more complete, so exciting and full of life. I loved walking through its rooms with you, exploring more and more that I desire, discovering feelings I never thought I have or that haven hidden in dark corners for a long time. You were my safe place, my haven, my home.
There were some drawers that you told me not to open and that you never touched yourself. But I knew they were there. I could see them, passed them a lot of times. Once in a while you opened some yourself very slightly to let me look inside. I know that sometimes I pushed you to open them some more; I am sorry that I did, not feeling you weren't ready.
The day your lies were revealed some drawers sprang open after I gently pulled them. What crawled out disturbed me. It scared me. I looked at pieces of a puzzle that I wasn't able to put together. The beautiful picture I had of you began to fall apart in front of my eyes. I couldn't breathe and the once warm and bright shining light in the rooms of my heart began to flicker. Deathly cold air flooded them and covered all inside with a layer of ice. I could feel my heart stop beating for what felt like eternity. The walls of the house began to tremble, cracks started to spread. Everything you brought when moving in crushed to dust. Our house, our home, our shelter was broken. Damaged. Beyond repair. The weight of your lies shattered everything to the ground.
I never wanted you to move out. But after hurting me so much I had no choice but to close the doors between us. I can still feel my hand on the handle, not able to let it go.
Walking through the ruins of our loves is a hurtful march. I still find bits and pieces every day and it fills me with sorrow. I carefully open the creaking doors, peering inside with fright, holding my breath with each memory that flashes up. It's never been so quiet here. Slowly I pick up smithereens with shaking hands. Finding photos of you is the most agonizing part. I look at them, knowing it's not you, and my soul aches.
