I broke up with my girlfriend of three years on Friday. She had feelings for someone else.
"Insignificant, inconsequential feelings. When I told her they went away."
"I know she liked you too. How couldn't she? Why would you tell her if she didn't?"
Fast forward one week and I'm carrying groceries into your kitchen, the grime of the six hour bus ride and two train transfers oily on my skin. I start to chop onions and ask you about what happen with her.
"Have you talked to her? Has she left yet?"
"No. I made it clear I could never talk to her again. She left yesterday."
"I don't understand how you stayed friends after you told her. It seems weird for a straight girl to want to stay friends with a lesbian who confessed she liked her."
"She liked me too."
And I'm running. I'm running away from you and your lies, I'm whirling through your house grabbing my belongings, anything I see that is a marker of us. Run to the bathroom to lock you out. To call a cab, to change my flight. I'm running out the door and you're crying and stumbling behind me. Chasing me, chasing me but it's too late. You catch up with me just to see me stop and tear the ring from my finger, tossing it as far as I can.
"You don't have my heart any more." I tell you. "You broke it."
I'm gone, gone, gone.
I'm twelve hours away and you wait 4 days to call me. Call me to tell me it's
"Over. I think we were right the first time. I don't know what's going on with me, I don't want to put you through this."
I scream at you to make you listen and you threaten to hang up. I calm down and rationalize why we should be together, beg you to stay with me when I've done nothing but love you.
You give in, absolved of your guilt and tell me you need a few days to think, but that you'd be seeing me soon.
Then you're here, in my room, and we're laughing and watching RuPaul and you're holding me tight and my heart is full and then you leave.
Back to your other world and I feel lonely. I start to think about how it all happened, about your feelings for her. About how you lied to me. About begging you to be with me.
I want to be with someone who wants to be with me. Not someone who feels like they have to be. I told you that on Friday when we talked. I told you that you needed to contact me. That I wouldn't be contacting you. I miss you so much that I'm breaking in half. I don't know who I am without you. I've lost my appeal, lost touch, have no idea how to find someone new or if I want to.
My friends took me out dancing and I looked good in your favorite dress, but I felt disgusting dressed as a vision of me intended for your eyes only.
My dad told me that by being single I will be able to open my eyes to things I haven't seen previously, but we'll see.
So my question is, how to heal a broken heart?