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The Things We Carry

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Dear Broken Heart,


I’m writing you this letter to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the nights that I left you to deal with tear soaked pillows. I’m sorry for all the nights where it felt like the bones of my ribs were crushing down on you in excruciating pain. I’m sorry for all the times I blamed myself for others mistakes and got the backlash that only ended in more sadness for you. I’m sorry for the nights where I kept you awake while I cried myself to sleep.

 

I remember a time when we both were happy. We went to bed happy. The pink sheets encasing us. We felt safe in between the pink and green walls. The darkness in that room was comforting. We had no trouble falling asleep. We didn’t have to worry about friends betraying us and hurting our feelings, we didn’t have worries. Oh, how I would love to be seven again. I remember a time when all I had was a smile on my face, and that made you happy, too. We ran around outside, laughing and breathing in the fresh air. You were beating quickly with immense amounts of joy. We were innocent and glowing, we did not know of malice and anger, we were sheltered and we loved ourselves.

 

Now, every night is filled with memories of the lost souls who have forgotten us along the way. We cry for the harsh words that have been thrown at us, when others had a momentary lapse in judgement and wanted to tear us down. Little do they know, we haven’t been the same since. We’ve been trying to find the joy in the world again. We look outside and wish we still found the colored leaves and the crisp fall air still beautiful. We try to fall in love with our city. We try to find the architecture of all the worn down buildings a work of art. We try to find a piece of ourselves in everybody, and I think that is what leaves us so empty.

 

We left a piece of ourselves with the girl that has golden brown hair, tan skin, and a beautiful voice. She took a piece of us when she didn’t ask the full story, and instead believed the lies other people had told her. We left another piece with the girl that we once called our best friend, the one we would take a bullet for. She took a piece of us when her own ego got in the way of the truth. To the broken boy with the tan skin, chocolate eyes, and velvety smooth voice. The one we thought we could fix, but in the process of trying to fix him, we broke ourselves instead. To the times when we have only thought about others and not worried or thought about ourselves, it has brought great sorrow to our lives.

 

Now, all I have been trying to do is sew you back together with all the love I can give you. We might not get much love from others, but I spend my days learning to love myself, so that you can learn to love yourself too. It’s going to be a long, winding road, with lots of bumps along the way, but I believe with all of myself, that we can get ourselves back to that child-like state, glowing with happiness, cheeks hurting from smiling so much, and I believe you will be whole again someday.

 

So, I’m not only writing this to you, but as a quote once said, I am also writing this to, ”All of the lost souls who have forgotten the immensity of love.”


     Sincerely,


      The body that is holding you together.


 




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