Falling Action ~

When the epitome of what you thought was love suddenly disappears, what are you supposed to do with yourself?




I'm lost.
Each time I try to find my way out, I reach a dead end that possesses a greatly unfair consequence.
The broken heart. The collapsed lung. The progressing ulcer. The demonic depression. What more must I go through?
If I was in a maze, trying to get myself back to well ... myself, I wouldn't want to move anymore.
There is no more energy. I am out of life bars.
What I thought was the light to guide me turned out to be nothing but a phony firefly that has magically disappeared into thin air. There was no light there. It was all in my mind.


I'm tired.

T a k o t s u b o   C a r d i o m y o p a t h y .


Also known as the Broken Heart Syndrome.

Hearing a doctor tell you that you literally have a broken heart is no music to the ears. If it was, it would be like hearing nails screech a chalk board.

I am a person diagnosed with a broken heart. That painful, pressure-like feeling in the chest after a break up is no ordinary feeling. It is actually the weakening of the heart's main muscle. Fancy, huh?

After that, it all goes downhill. You can't sleep. You can't eat. And the hardest one of all, you can't breathe.

Right when your lungs are ready to take in a big puff of oxygen, you suffocate, realizing that something isn't right. Are my lungs broken? NO BUT YOUR HEART IS.

Now...

The medicine. Truth be told, there is no magic pill to take when your heart breaks. What the doctors prescribe? Therapy. Time. 'Whatever is stressing you out, fix through it.'
Well, doc, it's not that easy.

What if the one who broke your heart actually has NO intention of fixing it? Is there someone I could hire to do it for me? To take his place?

This is pure and genuine BS.
In fact, it's BS at it's finest. You get screwed over, and you're the one that has to die. CONGRATS!

This is my own little world. It's too cheesy to own a diary, and it's too cliche to have a best friend.

I am stuck in a position in which I appear to be sane, yet am the total opposite internally.

In my own little world, I wouldn't have to tell people that I'm not okay. I don't know if I'd like a sign on my head, saying what I feel. Or maybe my hair will turn color that is equivalent to my mood. Or maybe, everyone will just know.

In my own little world, I am not forgotten. I am a priority. I am a responsibility. I am not remembered on the basis of title or social position. To be a 'girlfriend' would be the same as to be the 'one I love'. I should not settle for less.

In my own little world, tears will be the measurement of strength. The more tears, the more life bars. If Mario had mushrooms, I would have tears. They will show that even if defeat is inevitable, the strength to carry on is what matters.

In my own little world, I will be more important than sleep. Or at least, there will be more sensitivity to the feeling that I am not okay. And,"sleep can wait till later, because the one I love is not okay". And,  "I will not sleep until she is okay".

In my own little world, I will be cradled in the arms I love. I will not be left alone to sulk in misery. Then maybe, I won't have any misery left.

In my own little world, anger is not present.

In my own little world, creativity and honesty are crucial. There is no life without it. And certainly no love.

In my own little world, he is the one.


My world has a mind too narrow and little to hold all of this. But it is an enjoyment to reminisce about the times that these treasures did, at one point in time, exist. It must be remembered that this is no longer the world I live in. Nor, am I really sure, are even somewhat close to a world such as this.

For the world I speak of is actually his mind. These thoughts that once took place in that grand world of his. Although they did not coexist, these valuable gems I hold just from memory will always be my favorite parts of him. They are all I have left. These are the only lines I have left to hoping that one day, I will be a part of this world again. That he will invite me back in. And forever will still be a possibility.

Don't block me out.

I don't want him to know that I'm struggling. I want him to know that I'm strong, and getting stronger.

I've never liked my body.

Your pride is killing us.