ELTHAM HIGH SCHOOL ANTHOLOGY
Aisha Volpe 2018
The Night of it All
It was dark. My lamp was the only source of light in my room. In my life. It was 12:37am and I could not sleep. I felt numb. Broken. Lost and alone. The only person that was keeping me going I have now lost. I was too needy; I relied on him too much. I just needed him more then he wanted to be needed.
“Get over him, he didn’t treat you right.” The smart person in my head told me.
“But I love him,” I whispered back.
“He didn’t know what he had.” They persisted to tell me.
“Yes he did,” I said wiping tears from my cheeks. “He knew exactly what he had, he had a clingy, needy, selfish girlfriend that tried to show him how much she loved him but instead came off as desperate and annoying. He used to love me but I changed and now he doesn’t. I want to go back. I want to go back to my old self and tell myself don’t change. Don’t tell him what’s going on in your head coz he doesn’t love the broken you.” I took a long breath but that only made the feelings more over whelming. This was the night I lost the only person I thought cared for me. He was what made my sun shine and reason I could breath. I felt free when I was with him, but now I feel trapped. I felt safe in his arms but now I feel like every monster that tried to get me before is now able to. I was trapped in chains I didn’t know I had. I tried screaming but no sounds came out. I wasn’t a human anymore I was just something on a bedroom floor.
Slowly I lost all feelings, I stopped crying and just stared. I stared at the mirror and all I could see in the mirror was someone I hated. I despised who I saw. My eyes were red and my heart no longer existed. Everything was numb.
Weeks later (Present Day)
It’s been weeks. I feel like I have a huge hole that was punched right through my chest. When I am walking around everything is loud and fast but when I finally sit down everything is slow. So slow, that every thought I tried to bury deep down rushes straight back up to my head. Every happy memory plays on repeat, every memory that used to make me overwhelmed with joy now makes me so low and feel so dark that I have to rush off to the bathrooms and just sit and let out whatever I have left inside. The worst part of it all is the boy that crushed my soul into a million pieces is now considered my best friend. I have to sit by him every day and admire how happy he is without me while I’m still lost. He always was my best friend, which meant I made the mistake of cancelling out anyone that would be able to help me now. I want to talk to someone but he’s the only one I ever shared my problems with.
I create this idea in my head that he wants me still and I stupidly believe it. I hate the things I do because doing that is only destroying me more.
Every now and then, actually every time I see him. I remember how perfect he is. He’s always been perfect but every time I see him it just get emphasised. His beautiful eyes bring people back to life. His laugh is more beautiful then Tchaikovsky: Waltz of the flowers. When nothing else in the world made sense he did. When he would smile it would spark an emotion in me I loved feeling. I love him. I was always told I am too young to know what love feels like but if this isn’t what the after effect of love is then what is happening to me. He tore me apart and the pain is excruciating, yet I would still spend years putting myself together just to let him tear me apart again if that made him happy.
Its like hell. Its like sitting in a dark room for years and thinking someone’s waiting for you when you get out, but no one is. You feel alone. Unwanted. Your craving the smallest amount of anything from him; but you never get it. You can sit for hours remembering, feeling, crying, and just wishing you had him still. Wishing that instead of crying alone you were crying in his arms. You can think of nothing else, your hopeless, just craving the feeling of running your hands through his hair and drawing small circles on the palm of his hand until it tickles him and he lets out q little burst of joy. You so desperately want to smother his forehead in little kisses. His touch is like heroin to you; you promised you would get clean but you need to feel the warmth of his hand on your back so badly you would kill someone for it. Trust me you know how badly he treated you, but you don’t care. You know he made you feel small, but you feel smaller now. You know how much better you were then that, but you loved him for god sake, and you would rather go through the pain of being treated like that rather then losing him. I know exactly what your feeling. It’s the most painful pain in the world.
From Me to You
I was that girl. The one that was torn to pieces by a boy that I am still completely and utterly in love with. Some say I’m obsessed, others say I have no idea what I’m going through. But if I had no idea what I’m going through how would I be aware of what I’m feeling. If I am too young to be in love, why am I still grieving like he’s dead; when really, he’s right next to me. Everybody falls in love, I may have just fallen a little earlier then everyone else. You know exactly what you are going through. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not in love, because if you feel like that person is the reason you exist, you probably are.