I used to think people were exaggerating when they spoke about how much heart break hurt, I used to sit there comforting them while their mascara rolled steadily down their cheeks, leaving a deep dark pathway of betrayal and emptiness.
I used to tell myself they were being dramatic, "nothing could possibly hurt that much" I'd think to myself.
They'd say they lost their appetite and I'd watch them slowly fade away into everything they said they wouldn't become.
They'd constantly tell me that love wasn't worth it, that love brings such an immense pain that you're never the same after its ended.
But how can someone speak so poorly of a feeling that brought them so much comfort, so much worth, so much to live for?
I sat back and watched as they were happy, I held their hand when they were going through stuff.
I witnessed the bright times, and I witnessed the low points.
But all I wanted was too experience this feeling for myself, be able to tell people I was in love and that I was loved. To come home to someone who was happy to have me, to embody that emotional connection with someone that was deeper than words.
But now all I want to do is erase it from my memory, forget everything because as good as the feeling of love is, nothing can ever compare to the feeling of having you're heart torn from you're chest, sleepless nights filled with 'what ifs'
Nothing can compare to staring at you're reflection in the mirror with tears streaming down you're face, hating every inch of you're being, questioning why you weren't good enough.