I’ve never been broken before.
My heart has definitely been though.
It’s common and normal to experience a broken heart. Time aids almost everyone to cover the wounds with a bandage and move on.
But the breaking of self is different—there is no bandage that can cover its bruises.
It is so deep that it can affect you on all levels—mentally, emotionally and physically. It can deplete you of energy and turn you into a dead man walking amongst crowds of living human beings. To be broken by someone is simply the most dangerous form of killing because you don’t physically die. You emotionally die, and this is the beginning of a dire inner and outer war.
Although you—the man who broke me—owe me a bandage, I can only show you through my words the intensity and depth of my wounds.
I know you are used to being called “baby,” but I figured out you deserve it no more. I almost wrote “dear man,” but that too, is a name you don’t deserve.
As far as I know, real men of flesh and blood have integrity and you, sadly, have none.
To be broken isn’t such a pleasant state of being.
I’m sure you know how it feels, as only a broken person is bold enough to break another person. Only a person like you is daring enough to have the balls to mess with karma.
The only difference between you and I is that you were, and are, still broken. You never had the courage to bring together your pieces, and so you left them shattered on the floor. You had me walking on them. Your pieces were quite hazardous that they in return have broken me.
Dear you, it is true that I’m broken today, but I promise you that I won’t be tomorrow.
People with broken hearts and selves usually bring their pieces back together for the sake of revenge. But as for me, I don’t, and I won’t. I know within months you’ll most probably be tucked in bed with another woman and telling her how much of a perfect lover you are.
I’m bringing my pieces back together for me. I’ve been broken for so long that I forgot what a complete stature really looks like. I forgot what confidence means and what self-love is about. You made me forget the true meaning of love and this, I believe, is what I miss the most.
And so, I’ll bend down and start picking up my pieces.
Unlike you, I won’t accept bruising other people through my own bruises. I am actually aiming at giving everything that you have failed to give me.
I will give others honesty, love, and selflessness.
I will keep on giving until someone comes along and gives back to me. Yes, you read that well. If you think I will long be devastated by your sh*t and stay on the floor where you left me, you’re wrong.
I will love and I will be loved back, and only then will you know what you lost.
But dear you, I’m not the one who will show you this.
Life will—karma will.
It will show you how I shall rise again that I will lose sight of you. It will show you how strong I am despite the abundant number of my broken pieces.
I will rise and state out loud how thankful I am to the man who broke me—to you.
You are the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me.
To be broken is as good as it is bad. Only when we know what it feels like to taste the mud, will we aim to rise and taste the stars. And I, my dear, will live amongst the stars while you are still wondering how I managed to release myself from your web.
To the man who broke me, you’ll miss me.
When you feel it, wait for a starry night and say it out loud. I’ll hear you but I won’t reply back because darling, by then I’ll be a star and stars aren’t easy to catch.
Author: Elyane Youssef
Editor: Caitlin Oriel