Feelings: a ballad by two quills

The truth is, I never liked you at first. I didn’t want to like you rather. I somehow new that fairytales like that only exist in children’s books. It seemed like God was playing favourites when he made you, how can a person be so beautiful, there had to be something terrible about you too. I had crossed paths with love before, and I knew how sweet it could be, and how utterly painful it can be too. I knew that if I let myself fall for you then you’d cause me untold misery. It’s funny how my heart didn’t show up to that meeting. With every interaction we had, I could feel it coming, there was a purity about you, an innocence, that assured me that maybe, just maybe, my heart would be safe in your hands after all. Suddenly it became apparent that the very thing I had sought to ensure would never happen, would actually end up happening. There was a man down, and I was down for the count. I caught them, and I caught them hard. Feelings.

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I thought it would be an easy game, one that would come with somewhat a concoction of thrill, joy and utter peace, but the game of hearts proved to be filled with so much complexity. Having to peel off every facet of it layer by layer, my patience tested. The art of understanding myself to understand that which was all around me in case l would misinterprate the meaning. A tingling, choking, breathing under water. At times it felt like l was gliding over the seas, the sand on my feet, the sun hitting my face as it rises, feelings all so different but all together unified. Choices, choices to be made by the mind while the heart lay still, conflicted. Walls built so high by self becoming fortresses to be overcame, crumbling down down they tumble. A new land of possibilities discovered, vulnerabilities on display but still it was a different feeling.


It was a whirlwind of emotions, the good, the bad, the adorable and the ugly. It’s no surprise that someone who gives you so much happiness is also capable of dealing you the worst pain. Like sesons shifting, I could feel the change in tide of our relationship. We cuddled less and less, fighting more and more. Suddenly, there were all these little bits of the other that we couldn’t stand anymore. They say that you shouldn’t be worried when you argue, you should only worry when the arguing stops. I could feel us growing apart, I could feel you caring less. The sun was setting in paradise and I couldn’t turn back the clock. I still knew in my heart that you were the one I wanted to be with, and I would die before I let you go. I never used to be insecure, but with every missed date and “Sorry babe I got caught up at work today”, I started to fear for the worst.

I knew I could do more and I decided to surprise you with flowers at lunchtime. I still remember that scene in my head as if it happened just yesterday. As I made my way across the street, I watched as you locked lips with a stranger. I felt a clenching in my chest, an unbearable sensation that spread across my whole body and I felt paralysed. I always used to think that heartbreak was a metaphor, but in that moment I literally felt my heart break, it hurt, running out of breath, heart rate spiking, it felt like a heart attack. All the dreams of a life we had together came crushing and burning in front of my eyes, had you really given your heart to another, this was more than I could take. Feelings

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It felt like an endless heartburn, the heartache. Strong l thought myself to be, so strong l wouldn’t hurt but you made me realise I was just human. Human enough, heart so tender for cupid’s arrow to dig so deep I could only let out a breath, one so heavy and condensed with excrutiating pain. I wish l had screamed maybe my voice would have carried with it the betrayal that weighed me down. Maybe l should have cried, my every sorrow in rivers of tears released to make space for my joy which you snuffed. Like washing in thistles it felt the thoughts all so consuming, at first thinking myself victim to your betrayal, trickery and lies until my own mind became my enemy pointing fingers at me as the perpetrator. Did l make you do it? Was I not good enough?.

I hate myself for seeing you as angel. I hated you for making me hate myself. The wave rushed by and I was just so angry, it burnt so wild in me, the flames of a bitter heart. I was not angry at you nor was l angry at myself, that had passed.

I was angry at the world for dealing me its vile end, fuming for all the injustice that it was dishing out all around me. They say there are only five levels of grief but l swear to you I plummeted through a whole bunch more. Maybe mine was a grief of self, one that led me to repentance. You had not stolen my joy I had just been stupid to let you be the giver, but well l had not known any better.

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Eureka! I finally found the awakening, joy was never to be received from outside it was to be my state of mind, cooked from within, so intrinsic it would never depend on anyone but myself. I couldn’t wait for someone to pick the pieces.

I picked every one of them through the pain, each bringing a flashback of memories. Putting them together surely took time but like they say, time heals. I healed. Heart mended with all the cracks as a badge of honour, my battle scars more beautiful than ever. A mosaic. You allowed me to redesign, the cracks allowing the light in, who could have known ?

Bliss ,Betrayal, heartache, hurt, hate, anger, acceptance, healing,bliss and the circle was finished. Back where we all started. Now seasons come and go, the teeth rattling winters, the summers smelling like sunshine, changes everywhere yet one thing remains unchanged. The joy in my person. Breaking and mending it keeps me sane. Thank you for allowing me to learn l could be happy without you. I was all l needed.

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