The Moment My Heart Was Treated Like Garbage

I woke up with a bitter taste in my mouth this morning, and it wasn’t because of the beer I had last night. This bitterness was gifted to me by you; because you are so generous with your words of praise. However, this praise has never touched me in the way it was directed at someone else just a few hours ago.

How can you stand right next to me and tell another girl repeatedly how awesome she is and how cool she is and how incredibly lucky her boyfriend is to have her. Now, please do not misinterpret anything I write here. I have nothing against her because last night I met her for the first time and therefore I have no idea who she is and what she is like. She is not the one to blame here. It is your lack of control that begs the question: do you enjoy causing gunshot wounds to my heart?

If you claim that you meant nothing by saying those words, I will not believe you. That is a cowardly way of getting out of this. If you tell me that I should not be bothered by all that was said, I will ask you to imagine a different situation; a situation in which we are out with my friends, you don’t know anybody at the party table but you’re happy that you came because it meant spending time with me. All of the sudden, I begin to tell this guy that he is an awesome person; not once, not twice, but a few more times. I tell his girlfriend that she lucked out; again and again. I now turn to you with a smirk on my face and look you dead in the eye and say the following words: ‘he is great, isn’t he?’.

Tell me that your heart would not ache. Tell me it would not break. Tell me you would not go to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself ‘what the fucking fuck happened just now?’. Tell me, please tell me, that you would not feel your heart darken and turn to stone. I don’t know how many more fucking metaphors to use to describe to you exactly how my chest hurt that night. Whoever says that a ‘broken heart’ is just a saying, that is indeed a very lucky person.

I have no intention of bringing all this up to you directly because I know you will treat my feelings like garbage; like meaningless pieces of garbage. This is why I am channeling all my hurt and frustration into these paragraphs. Maybe you will stumble upon this and read it and realize how much destruction you brought to my soul. But we both know that is very unlikely. You will read it but you will not care. In your mind, I’ll just be the one blowing things out of proportion.

It is sad, honey because I adore you and you’re my everything. But suddenly the bitterness gets stronger when I think of you. Maybe I am developing antibodies; that would mean that my body is much smarter than I am and is sick of going through this amount of hurt over and over again. If I am not mentally strong enough to walk away, maybe my body will help me and develop an aggressive allergy towards you. I can only hope and pray.