broken ribs

Love is like falling down... in the end you're left hurt, scarred, and with a memory of it forever.

It's 2 a.m. in the morning, I'm wearing his sweatshirt because it smells like him and drowning in my own tears. I've been there. I've been the saddest girl in the world, with a mangled heart and the certainty of getting over him was impossible. It's hard being that girl that is so incapable of giving me what I need out of a relationship. I not only married him, but gladly gave away every last shed of my self-esteem to be with him.
I've been consumed with despair, confusion, anger- truly devastated because I thought that this was going to last forever. I've cried 48 hours straight, lost my appetite, my ability to sleep, my ability to function. I've played things over in my mind, obsessed over it all, sought professional help, leaned on my friends, got a new pet, made new friends and shopped excessively.
On the outside I wear the illusion that I am over it, but let the truth be told it's a charade, all smoke and mirrors and empty words. Being brokenhearted is like having broken ribs. On the outside it looks like nothing is wrong, but with every breath it hurts. Let's just say my ribs are broken.
Now, it may be no surprise that I kick butt in all other areas of my life. I have an awesome job, I own a beautiful home, I've financially supported myself thought ALL of this, (and yes, I'm still paying bills for him too- even though he makes 3 times what I do) I've got great friends and family, awesome clothes, great taste in music, etc... but for whatever reason getting over him is taking forever. He is my kryptonite. And like Superman I am powerless in his wake. But as it turns out Superman always figures out a way to overcome kryptonite and I will too.   

Sometime you just have to hold your head up high, blink away the tears and say good-bye.

Goodbye.