At Least I Had Love Letters To Rip Through

I’ve had a hard time finding time to write on this blog and I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve lost a bit of inspiration or if it really is because senior year is wrestling me to the ground. Either way, a new commitment (mentally and now electronically) has been made to bring back the effort to this site.

I wrote this at 1 am last night while laying in bed.

I have found that writing through my emotions and pain (however long and grueling a process this is) has been the best way to deal with what I go through. It’s kind of insane how I can feel so incredibly content until I am exhausted at home from the day and have to sort through this mess of whatever I’m feeling.

Sometimes I get jealous of those who aren’t emotional at all.

Then again, they probably wouldn’t write anything like this…

I ripped through your words tonight.

I was waiting to burn them but I couldn’t wait anymore. 

I ripped every picture and bribed my heart.

I told it that if I could make it through this moment without a single tear that I was stronger than I thought.

And I didn’t cry.

I wanted to. I wanted to read every word one more time and then hide them in a corner just to know that I wasn’t dreaming what I thought I had. 

But I ripped through them instead because I knew that I wanted love back, not you.

I ripped through diaries and stories and I love yous gone to hell.

I ripped through ticket stubs and anniversary cards and I took them straight to the dumpster in the pouring rain. 

But you know what? At least I know what it’s like to have love letters. 

But I don’t ever want to know what they said anymore.

And as I walked back up the stairs to my apartment door, damp from the rain, my head became light and I fell onto my bed.

For a night, I could finally breathe. 

And if you see me as weak, pathetic-you name it. I am far from every single one of those words.

I am worth more than dead poetry and used to bes.

I am more than false hope and biased memories. 

Last night, before I ripped through the past, I reached the end of my rope.

I want you to know I felt so awful, I would have done anything to get the crushing weight on my chest flown off of me. 

But I couldn’t think of  a single thing. 

It was crushing and suffocating.

Until I ripped through those memories. 

Every single rip rang in my ears and put something back together.

Every tear of another page made my heart ice over the searing heat that had left me so angry.

Tonight- I felt something that I haven’t felt in a really long time. 

Not closure, not a heart beating anew, not healing… I felt myself inch forward.

A fraction of an inch that I took so proudly that I can’t bear to tell you how destroyed I had to be to get here. 

These tiny inches are battles that I am fighting every single day and to tell you that I’m okay or that everything happened like it was supposed to would be a lie. 

Every day, every hour feels different. 

But my god, that fraction of an inch felt so good. 

Until Next Time,

Anna Marie

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s