From Our Readers: I Know You Didn't Mean To Break My Heart

Neither of us were expecting things to end up this way.
ART Trixie Ison

I Know You Didn't Mean To Break My Heart

I know you didn't mean it. Neither of us were expecting things to end up this way. Neither of us were expecting to meet each other, fall in love, and have to end it so suddenly. Neither of us didn't mean for it to happen, but it did.

You used to tell me that I was one of the few people you really trusted, so much that you shared your personal stories with me those late times back in school. You spoke fondly of your friends, and I knew they were a big part of your life. Having a distant relationship with your family isn't easy, and the way you were still able to keep yourself together made me admire you so much more. I remember when I would freak out over the littlest things, and you had the rare ability to calm me down instantly. That was one of the reasons why I fell for you. You keep yourself reserved but yet know how to open up when it matters, all the while being able to calm me down and cheer me up in times of crisis.


READFirst Love

Despite still believing in the way love stories and experiences should be like those in cliche films and movies, no matter how unrealistic, I never would've expected for some of them to actually happen to me. Take long walks, just chatting endlessly about anything and everything, go to a concert together, go stargazing, have special moments along gardens, oceanside, and even the streets of the city. It all seemed so surreal at the time that I didn't even notice how fast time just flew by. It really is a different experience when you're in love.

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But of course, most good experiences never really last, do they? We both got busy, with us in our different classes and extra-curricular activities. We still took the time to keep in contact in every way that we could, even savoring those few classes we managed to have together. Fate was kind to us for a while, and we wanted it to stay that way. However, time moves on with or without you. Before we knew it, our late night conversations started to end too quickly and our contact seemed to become gradually more and more distant. We were technically dating, or what you could call it in this day and age, but we were never official. I always wondered if and when we would ever be. Little did I know at the time, my doubts that never happening were actually true.


READ:  To the Guy Who Walked Barefoot Just So I Wouldn't

You said it was for the best. You said I deserved someone better. Someone who would reciprocate all the immense love that I give. You said I was everything you've ever wanted, and yet it still wasn't working for us. You said you were sorry about a million times, and that you wished it didn't have to end this way.

I should hate you for hurting me like you did, but that would be pointless cause I don't.


I could say we rushed into things too quickly. With so much going on at that time, maybe we just needed something new and different to escape reality from. A honeymoon phase can only last for so long. I could say that maybe we should have focused more on school work and slowed it down, so we could work more on it in the summer. I could say that I should hate you for hurting me like you did, but that would be pointless cause I don't.

READTo the Boy Whose Heart I Can't Heal

I could say a lot of things. But the one important thing I want to tell you, if ever you are reading this, is that I know you didn't mean to break my heart. You're a genuine, sweet person, who just incorporated the sad fate of falling out of love. Unfortunately, I didn't have that fate as well at the time. I know we both didn't want things to end up this way, but I still thank the heavens that we were able to cross paths, even just for a while. Whatever our futures holds for us, we'll never know. But someday, I know we'll both be happy with our lives, with or without each other.


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If you know me, and know me well, I am not the biggest fan of idyllic lifestyles. With a Type A personality, I act immediately upon whatever challenge that needs to be addressed. I actually enjoy keeping my mind preoccupied: doing university work in my favourite cafe then running errands around town, grocery shopping here, updating my accounts there, photocopying documents on the way down the street - all just in time before having a glass of champagne at the bar with my friends come evening.

And so, you could imagine my bewilderment when the next challenge to be faced was an extensive self-quarantine protocol. I didn’t know what to do when my greatest responsibility in this situation was to do nothing at all. My first few attempts to combat my consternation were very much rooted in distraction and imagination. My distractions involved conducting research, writing songs, calling family and friends, filming videos, and eating chocolate! My imaginations and fantasies were centred on travelling, shopping, even clubbing (which I rarely do) for when they find a cure to COVID-19. I did anything and everything that could be considered constructive in order to pass the time, mainly hoping I could just undertake the basic human necessities to survive - that is, eat and sleep the day through - until the next day comes, until the world is closer to becoming a better place, until quarantine ends, until my flight follows through, until I see my family and friends again.

Days in self-isolation and suspended flights turned to weeks and turned to months. By the third extension here in Spain where I study Fashion Business, I had to tell myself this shall be my new normal now, that I was blessed to be healthy, that I was tired of merely existing and missed what it was like to actually live - even if just within four walls. Little by little, I began to find significance in the simple occurrences of the day: the soft glare of the rising sun beaming golden streaks through my bedroom window upon waking up, the fragrance of freshly washed bed sheets that I had painstakingly hung to fit a relatively small clothes rack without crumpling them, the crunch and tanginess of warm toasted bread topped with raspberry marmalade, the buzzing sound of a phone call from home just waiting to be answered, to the caress of a fuzzy sweater to keep warm at night. I realised, “What pleasures to be enjoyed in the pause of slow living!” Through this continued pause, which I loathed at first, I began to appreciate each moment of the day rather than wish it would pass more swiftly, moments I had overlooked so often before the lockdown. I started to find that the challenge of self-isolation was never to pause both the regular routines of life as well as the positive emotions that came with these - as initially, I thought it meant to pause all happiness, so as to withstand a time of endurance in hopes for a better tomorrow, much like a form of delaying gratification. Life is just too fragile these days to delay gratification any further.

Life has paused, but it has not stopped. Believe that like any punctuation mark in a sentence, the pause will provide the right timing of things to take place. Till then, let us not waste our time waiting. Instead, we could be in the moment, seek substance in simplicity (that is, in what we already have), And enjoy the pleasure in pause. “Practice the Pause. When in doubt, pause. When angry, pause. When tired, pause. When stressed, pause. And when you pause, pray.”

They say time heals all wounds, but it has been ages - is heartbreak exempted?

I have forgotten when was the last time we shared a smile - the last time when I saw the glow in your eyes and the last time when you whispered an I love you to me. I have forgotten when, but here I am - writing to you again.

I do not know if you will read this or you will just add this one to my proses and poems that you left unread, but you see, I am still hoping. I am mailing the pain of us to the gods out there - hoping they can take the pain away. I should have gotten over you, but instead of forgetting and accepting our ending, I am writing about us in tissue sheets, carving about us on trees, telling about us on the back of my journals, hoping that a thousand or a million write ups about us, can make me forget about what happened.

I am writing, waiting for the point where I can no longer write anymore, for I have none to tell - but when? I have nothing in me anymore, but the memories of us - and no matter how hard I try put those to its own grave, the memories grow back like lilies in the swamp - painful and beautiful at the same time.

No matter how hard I try to silence those and put it at the back of my mind, those ring back, playing like the favorite song we used to listen. They say heartbreaks turn into poetry and that is what happening to us - but poetry should be dulcet and dreamy, why does ours sound like pain and agony? They say time heals all wounds, but it has been ages - is heartbreak exempted? Darling, I guess not.

Anne Luna A day ago
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