The Diary Of A Broken Heart

Alone

You have departed from my life again. I'm left alone. All that's left is your memories and the promises you made, only to break them. I knew you'd leave. You always do. It doesn't hurt me anymore when people break promises or hearts. I'm no longer surprised by cheats and disloyal people. And that's why I know I'm strong enough to let it go.

You are like the butterfly that comes back to the flower, when it doesn't find nectar anywhere. You are like the waves that crash against the shore when others push them away. You're like the stars that fade away when the sun rays slowly begin to light up the sky. You're like the parallel universe that is only discovered in the darkest days of itself.

Your departure has left me struck with melancholy and nostalgia. The sadness makes it difficult to respire. The brokenness leaves me numb on my bed. I recall all I ever said to you or heard from you. The promises you made of never letting me go. The excuses you made for not wanting to talk. The compliments. The future plans. It was all a lie. I knew it. I knew it since day one. But the heart, ah. It wants what it wants. I wanted you. And I did whatever I could to keep you. 

You were a bird who returned to its nest when hurt only. Perhaps you had another one that was your home. But you. You were my home. Maybe that's why I end up homeless and breathless here at 4 in the morning. This was often the time you'd bid good night, having discussed your fears and dreams all night. I stare blankly at the screen. I don't know if you're online on the other side speaking to someone or fast asleep in bed dreaming about another girl you've just fake promised a forever to.

What bothers me is less of your absence and more the presence of the memories that follow. I'm looking for answers I know I can't bear to let inside my ears. Maybe because I know them all yet I can't really believe that they could be true. The pain is certainly not of not being loved back with such intensity. Rather, its having to know that all such love was in nothing but in vain. It was given to someone who didn't deserve it. Perhaps this regret of loving the wrong person is less than the guilt of not giving it to the right one. Or maybe it's more. I don't really know.

It's difficult to resist your anger when your favourite person in the world is shared with another. But you know what's worse? When they choose to share themselves. Because you might not even be close to being anything to them, favourite person is out of question. You just assume that you're important to them. But I don't blame you for it. Because the way they treat you: like a princess/prince, even if it's just for one minute, you sink. You sink in the ocean of love. And that's exactly why they ever came: to drown you in love with them, and disappear; only to watch you pleading for help and trying to save yourself. And when you see them there, offering a hand from the distant end, they appear like mankind's angel. But it's all an illusion.

You possess a power. Three words, eight letters and you can make anyone sink for you. Anyone. You don't even need to touch anyone physically. Your words are enough to kiss souls, yet shatter them into a million pieces. That's exactly what you've done to me. You've left me sore. I'm drowning in my thoughts and your memories. There's no one to hold me, no one. I recall your words, "I'll always be there. Always." Maybe your always just lasted like your forever: three weeks.

I'm not sure if you're going to return. But I'm sure of one thing: I'm not letting down my guard. My walls shan't grow weak at your knock anymore. That's a promise I make to myself. And this time, it's not meant to be broken.