A Million Pieces

I'm writing this raw.

Tonight, someone I love said something that hurt me. It tore me up, and I’ve never felt so dismissed, disappointed, and disrespected. My heart shattered into a million pieces, and I felt like we were making progress in our relationship. This just set us back. Way back.

I’m thinking about that phrase: shattered into a million pieces. And it feels like each and every single piece hurts. Someone stomped on my fragile, glass-like heart. I just feel broken, and it will take days, weeks, and months to put myself back together. And though therapy, crying, “feeling my feelings,” and talking it out will act as my duct tape and glue to bond myself back together eventually, nothing will restore me to where I was before.

My heart has been chipped, nicked, and scarred throughout the course of my life. This makes sense. Between grief and heartbreak and stress, and other bullshit, no heart is left unmarred. But there’s a special kind of pain that comes from when the people who love you reject you. The love, the care, the support, the praise—THE EVERYTHING— I put into this person was carelessly unreturned. To know that no matter how much I care, how much I love, how much I try, something will always be put over me just hurts. And so I hurt.

But at least I know where I stand.