Heartbreak

How ironic.

The first post I wrote this year was about love and here I am, miserable as hell, feeling like love is the very thing that's killing me right now.

I don't think I've ever felt like this before.

It's like a void in my chest, right in the middle, and it hurts. And I wish it didn't, but it does.

I thought I was better than this. Every time a heartbroken friend spoke to me about her inability to leave a bad lover, I would feel sorry for them, but at the same time I was so sure that something like that would never, EVER happen to someone like me.

I'm smart. I know what's good for me. I know what I do and don't deserve.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Here I am, feeling like proper shit, unable to sleep, to cry, to eat.

And I feel so, so stupid. Because I know how cheesy it is. I know I'm a fucking cliché right now. I know I'm the embodiment of so, so many silly love songs. 

I used to sing along to those songs, not knowing what they really meant and fantasizing about living a love so deep it could physically hurt you. I never fully understood, but now I do.

Now I know what it's like, to feel disappointed, to feel empty, to feel like an idiot because I should have know better.

We studied tragedies in school. How do you know a play is a tragedy? You can tell from the premises. You can already tell it's not gonna end well. There will be no happy ending.

Then, I wonder, what did I study for?

Shouldn't I have been prepared for this? I studied tragedies. Why couldn't I predict this? How could I be so delusional, to think it could work? To think it would be different? What the hell was I thinking?

I've got so many questions, burning my head. 

Why do we humans like suffering so much? It's almost as if, even when we know, deep down, that something's gonna go wrong, we still do it. We still go for it.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we torture each other?

Is it because of loneliness? Is it because it's better to get hurt than to be alone?

Is it really better? 

I obviously do remember the good times, of course I do. But were they worth it? Were they worth all the pain I'm feeling right now, when all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs?

I don't know.

All You Need Is Love

Sooooo here I am.
After so many months of neglecting this blog, I'm back.
And for the third year in a row, I am writing something about... well, a new year.
Which is funny, because one of the most important things I've learned lately is that time means literally nothing, it doesn't exist.

Timing, on the other hand... oh, timing really is everything (and the main reason why my love life is doomed, but that's another story). And you know what else really is everything?

Love.

This year, probably more than any other year, I've realized that it's pretty much all you need.
I'm not even talking about romance, you know?
I'm talking about the love of your family, of your friends, and most importantly the love you should feel for your own damn self.

I've had some pretttttttty low moments this year, but somehow, thanks to other people's love and affection I was able to make it.

I'm one of those people who always thinks she can... no, she must make it on her own.
Asking for help is never an option.
But here's the thing: every now and then, it's okay to rely on others. It's okay to let go. It's okay to lose control and it's okay to... love.

Here's hoping this next year will be full of love, full of compassion and togetherness. It's pretty much all I need (and all the whole world needs, really).

It's easy.