That first night was probably one of the worst nights of my life. The pain I was feeling was entirely new to me, nothing I had ever experienced before. Nothing could be compared to how I felt that night; not a horrible headache, not the most awful cold, not even an infected wound or a sprained ankle.
That night the pain was in my chest. The pain made it difficult to breathe, I think it was difficult to even swallow. My lungs hurt every time I took any air in them; every breath I took, I was breathing hundreds of tiny nails that would stick to my lungs and hurt me from the inside.
The pain spread from the back of my throat, pressed my breasts into my ribcage and didn't let me breathe. It spread to both my shoulders, my spine and nearly down to my lower back. The nails dug in slowly and painfully into every corner in my body. The deeper I inhaled, the deeper the millions of nails stabbed me.
The tears didn't stop. Everything was him. Everything. My body, my room, my thoughts, my tears, the air I was breathing, the pain I was feeling.
He destroyed me, he hurt me the way no one had ever done before, the way I was expecting to never get hurt. And for months, the pain stayed, specially at night, my head filled entirely by him, with expectations, dreams, illusions and scenarios that never occurred. For months all I wanted was him. Nothing else, no gifts, no hugs, no kisses, no sympathy; just him being mine again.
I want other things nowadays.
I want to see Paris and New York.
I want to see my grandma.
I want to do well in school.
I want to work and earn my own money
I want to read all the books I haven't had the time to read.
I want to do yoga everyday.
And best of all, I don't want you. I already have you.
x
