Since last year when I decided to leave my ex, I’ve felt the sadness of my heart corrupt me at the end of everyday—when the moon would rise and the earth fell silent, I heard my heart weep. Almost as if it were broken because of me, because I detached from a relationship that was no longer healthy for me or my heart. I was lied to, cheated on, used, and only fifteen-years-old—in a relationship with my first love.
I met her around Valentine’s Day only three years ago, and the idea of her and I being together lingered in the back of my mind until the relationship actually manifested in our lives. It was a very new thing for the both of us. Being in love for the first time, with another girl, it’s all too exciting. We felt like the only two in the universe—our auras reflected romance and fed off of each other. Our time apart was spent thinking about each other. I often thought of her lips on mine and my fingers combing through her soft brown hair. My heart was on fire. But, like most first love scenarios, things spoiled and the flame in my heart quickly settled.
I really am a lover. My heart is too big and has room for all the love in the universe. But that relationship has really impacted me. For the past year, I’ve been checking up on her, worrying about her, and falling into endless daydreams wondering if she even ponders about me. But I’ve been growing and becoming the person I’ve always wanted to be too. I’ve indulged in creative projects, reading book after book, filling journal after journal. Change was hard, but being separated from her has forced me on my own path.
But the habits of my heart, birthed from being gridlocked into unhealthy patterns, has materialized into my current relationships. I haven’t felt those lustful, romantic feelings for anyone else since. I’ve been trying to force love back into my life because it’s almost like fuel for me, but my heart, in the softest way, wishes for her again. My heart has different plans than my brain, and I never know who to listen to.
We spoke a month ago. She said she missed me and I let my heart grow attached to her again, just for a minute. She said she wouldn’t disappear from my life like she had before, and I, without thinking, believed her. I’ve absentmindedly been allowing myself to await her texts and have shut out other parts of my life for her again—until it hit me that things will never return to what they used to be. It’s just astonishing to me that, after all this time, I let my heart take control over me once again.
But I know now that I am the color red. I am loud and loving; I am full of spirit and fire; I am created from love. I am not someone who waits on people—my heart is too good for damaging. I’ve finally realized that I should only surround myself with those who genuinely love and care about me. I still have compassion in my heart for her, but I love myself more than I loved her or will love anyone—and love will find its path to me. I’m finally ready to progress in this world without her.