By Oozy_tattoo

By bgfdel

✞ 666 ✞

Mihály Zichy: The Kiss (1864)

I was crushed, and I needed help healing. But, you wanted me to keep it inside, away from us. And now this is what my inside looks like. Every day is worse than the last. Every day, my heart is a little more broken. It's okay, though. You don't need to know. Your peace of mind is more important than mine.

‘I Don’t Want to Be Here, I Don’t Want to Be Here’

Everything is disposable.

Everything I have. It holds no value to anyone but me. I need to stop valuing anything – anything I have, anything I like, anything that makes me who I am. My heart – it’s utter trash.

I didn’t feel this way before. Was my heart always this fragile?

He said I was looking for a problem. But that’s not true. If I thought there was any chance there was a problem, I would have hardened myself for it. I would have made sure I was resilient enough to withstand it. I thought we were perfect.

And when I learned the truth, it more than broke my heart. I felt foolish. Shame. Worthless. Trash.

Is this trauma? I can’t stop thinking about it – every day – about how I’m less than her. Even when I thought I was the best I could possibly be, it wasn’t enough to have his heart. It’s hers.

He said that his feelings for her weren't real. That type of love isn’t real. Passion. Infatuation. Obsession. But those are the feelings I have for him — those and more. I feel everything for him. I wanted to be my best for him. I wanted to show him my worst. I wanted to be with him all the time and longed for him when he wasn’t around. I thought about him. I thought about what he thought about. I cared about the things he cared about.

My love was strong and fierce.

The closest thing I’ve ever found to a soul mate? Him.

The closest thing he’s ever found to a soul mate? Her.

He said he had moved on. But he's said that time and time before. And I believed him before. If I’d known before, I wouldn’t even be here. If I’d known, I could have made my own choice about being with him – and my heart would still be whole.

When my heart broke, I thought about leaving. But what would that fix? My heart would still be broken. I have a chance now to make a choice, but I’m in too deep, and my choice is different. My choice is to stay. My heart still loves him fiercely. And all I can do is heal.

How do I heal?

He decides how I heal. He decides what my heart needs – not me. He thinks kindness and care are enough. He says that’s love. That’s the 1st Corinthians kind of love. That’s not my love. That’s not my heart. That won’t fix the heart.

I know what I need. I know how to heal the hurt. I can’t control what it is that will heal me – it just is what it is. And I know.

I need to feel important. I need to feel valuable. I need to feel like I am worth – worth being a part of his story. Worth anything.

So I asked for his help to make the hurt go away.

He refused. He refused to even acknowledge it – the reason I hurt. And me acknowledging it made him feel bad. That’s what he needs – to pretend nothing bad has ever happened. That he doesn’t love her. 

That I don’t hurt.

He can’t control what he needs for his heart. His heart is valuable. Mine is not. So we don’t acknowledge it.

And I’ve felt this way all this time — and never said anything. And I know it has shone through. It’s been visible ever since. Obvious, even. But we pretend it’s not there. We let it hurt, and we don’t say anything. We just … let it.

Let it. Let me.

Let me hate myself. Let me wish I was someone else. Her. Because he loved her.

Let me rot. Let me sleep. Let me drown in work. Let me give up on my health. Let me abandon joy. Let me stop being my best self. Let me be my worst self. Let me waste. Let me throw myself away.

I’m disposable.

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First, I want to say – I hear you. Your pain is raw and real, and it’s clear you’re holding so much weight in your heart right now. It sounds like you’ve been carrying this hurt for a while, trying to push through it, trying to understand it – but instead of finding answers, you’ve been left feeling hollow and discarded. That’s devastating. It’s the kind of heartbreak that doesn’t just bruise – it makes you question your own value, your own worth, and whether you’re even deserving of love.

But you are.

The fact that you feel so deeply, that you loved so fiercely – that’s not weakness. That’s strength. It takes courage to love someone with your whole heart, especially when it makes you vulnerable to being hurt. And I know it feels right now like your heart is fragile, but I think it’s just tender from being stretched to its limits. That’s not the same as weakness. That’s a heart that’s alive – even when it hurts.

It sounds like you’ve been left feeling like you’re second best, like you were compared to someone else and came up short. That’s brutal, and it’s unfair. And maybe he didn’t mean to make you feel that way – maybe he doesn’t even realize how deeply it cut – but that doesn’t mean your pain is invalid. It doesn’t mean you’re wrong for feeling it.

Your heart is not disposable. Your love is not disposable.

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