She exists. Even if she is a faint memory. She is always there. Watching. Waiting. Wishing. She is the angel you forget about. The angel you cling to. Because at the end of everyday, there are those who love unconditionally. Those who make the world a better place. And then there are those who eagerly await your return. All because of love. She is there. She is always there. Sometimes, you just have to look.
Writing prompt Day 4 Write Yourself Alive: write a letter about my last heart break- say everything I want
I don’t need to say dear. Because it doesn’t much matter now. My heart has healed and I have grown. If I had been asked five years ago to write this letter to you. The tone would have been much different. I would have scolded you. Berated you. Torn you down. Hoping, wishing and praying that just an ounce of you would feel the low that I felt because of you. I allowed you to tear me down. To destroy me. My confidence. My intuition. My self worth. I allowed you to take it from you. Use it against me. I felt crazy around you. As if my world was crumbling and you were the key to reality. A magician of human psyche. You were Houdini. I believe every illusion. I didn’t want to know how you did the tricks. Knowing would have returned my power. Something you locked away. Slowly I awoke from the comma of you. I became aware of reality. I drowned in your lies. Suffocated. It took everything to keep myself from slipping into the abyss. You called it love. No, it was hell. It killed me. Until I couldn’t bob anymore, I couldn’t tread. I could no longer fight the current. I floated. Until I reached the cool shore. Who knows how long I laid there. Exhausted and lost. On that shore I found myself. And began the slow journey to return to me. I thank you. If it was not for your cruelty. Your delusions. I would have never become the person I am today. I would have stayed and drowned. Anchored to the deep dark bottom. I would have never know the sun or the stars. I found myself. My beauty. Free of you, I fly. I am in love with myself and life. I am sorry you will never have this for yourself. You are anchored to your misery.