I remember how it hurt. I remember how it hurt every, single solitary time. No matter how many times I have gone through it, it hasn’t made it hurt any less.
I remember how hard I’d try to fight back the tears and I remember how that would hurt my throat. It felt like a fist was pushing my emotions down my esophagus. I remember how my legs would start to hurt from keeping myself from falling and from trying my hardest not to quiver. Even each heart beat would hurt because it was beating too hard and too fast.
I remember that in those moments, I’d understand why a heartbreak was called a heartbreak… because you literally feel your heart shatter in a million pieces almost like a piece of your soul was violently pulled out and you suddenly feel the void. Your chest feels hollow and empty and, incomplete.
But I remember I was always the one who did it. I was always the one to acknowledge that we, or I, were holding on to an empty relationship. I always had to bring the truth and sit it on the table because none of them had the balls to do it.
Often times, I was left hanging. I was left to answer all of the questions by myself. I was left to question whether I was enough or if the “wrong” was actually, me. I was left hanging long enough to question everything I thought about myself. “What did I do? What didn’t I do? What did I overdue? Or underdo?” I would then start to lose self-worth, my self-esteem too would be thrown out the window, and for a while I would be miserable and depressed.
But after all of that, seemingly ironic, it would also be love that would liberate me. I would realized that a broken heart could only be mended by the purest kind of love; the love that I should have always had for myself.
From all of that I learned had I not lost myself in the process of loving another, maybe, the pain would have been a bit more bearable. Had I valued myself enough, I would have learned early on that a guy who wants me, would let it show. Had I loved myself enough, I would have known that loving another also means loving one’s self. Had I cared for myself enough, I would have known better than to let a relationship drag on for weeks when it obviously wasn’t working out anymore.
There’s this quote from an unknown author which really hit me, it said “I gave you all the love I could have used to love myself.” It strengthened my feelings regarding loving one’s self first before really loving anyone else. To understand love, one should know what it is and what it isn’t. To understand love is to know how it should make you feel: secure, content and happy – and what you shouldn’t feel: jealous, paranoid and scared. To love another is to know that to love another is to love yourself because you’d want to be able to love him the way you love yourself; captivating and liberating.