It's okay. I understand. I'm so sorry. Everything will work out for the best in the end, I promise.
Those words, those untrue words permeate every thought that runs through my mind.
It's okay. I understand.
She does not understand. There is no way she could. She may be my best friend, but her life is perfect, how could I expect her to understand? She has all the great single boys falling over her while she goes after the ones that are not available. The girl has her reasons, sure, valid ones too. But that does not mean she understands. She has never had the boy she loves love her back one minute and hate her in the next.
Everything will work out for the best in the end, I promise.
No. The optimistic girl on the other side of the phone probably believes this, but I know the truth. It does not always work out in the end. Not for everyone, not for me. Otherwise, everything would be looking up by now. The phone vibrates again. The screen illuminates, alerting me that I received another message.
It's always darkest before the dawn.
A swift pang of every emotion I have felt over the past year and a half courses through my body. Tears roll down my cheeks as I am no longer able to contain them. I pray silently yet fervently that this will be the darkest it gets. Abruptly, I am swept back to that fateful night.
His hand reached for mine and he led me into the building. I remember the shock that pulsated through my veins at the slightest touch, the butterflies with eagles' wings that flapped in the pit of my stomach with every glance, and the warmth that consumed me every time he uttered my name. That is what people describe love as, right? I can envision the strobe lights that cast the shadows dancing on the walls. I remember how intensely I gazed at them to avoid crying.
"What? What are you… How could you… Why did you?" he had asked, breathing laboriously. In that instant I forgot how to speak, and all the air was knocked out of me. I remember standing there, my mouth agape, shaking my head like an idiot. "We're done," he concluded suddenly, his voice cutting through to my very core. Time stood still. To this day, I am not entirely sure if the entire world shook or only mine. I do know for a fact that everything changed in that split second. My heart shattered into an innumerable amount of pieces.
"Time heals all wounds," the optimistic girl on the other side of the phone had said when I relayed the story to her, "and you have all the time in the world."
Time. Time is the one thing I always disregard. It is unimportant, insignificant, forgotten. Yet, without time, nobody, nothing, would exist. Without time… there is an interesting concept, practically inconceivable. What would I do without time? I would not heal. I feel as though I have been stuck in that moment, and that time has not moved for the past year and a half. I replay that moment in my head, mindlessly attending to my daily routine. It is as if the light has gone from my life, and I am living in the dark. Depression seeps through every crack and crevice, expanding and leaving empty holes in my heart. Feelings escape, forcing numbness to spread throughout my body, soul, and heart.
Feelings. Feelings have not penetrated my heart in a long time. Emotions are completely out of the question as it was always easier for me to feel than to emote. I have lost all of that. The thread connecting my heart and my mind that was slowly being strengthened by him has been cut. No longer can I process what is going on or what people are doing or saying to me. Heartbreak is all I feel now, and I have felt it for so long I am immune to it. I no longer feel anything. There is no relief. There is no pain. I am numb. Simply numb. Completely numb. Painfully numb.