Once again, I am privileged enough to have Beth Hallows as a featured writer. When I read her piece, I immediately resonated with it.
Because it sounded a lot like me a year ago. We have these internal monologues with ourselves, where we’re completely against the idea of our hearts jumping into something again, because we’re so used to being alone and so conditioned to think that because we’re so young, this may not last.
Sometimes it does, even if it’s for a few months, and that’s good enough.
But other times, we deeply invest ourselves into individuals only to be let down.
Take everything as a lesson, and don’t carry resentment with you everywhere you go.
It’s a heavy burden.
Huge thank you to Beth for writing this.
In two weeks time, we’ll be on the road to #Clean together.
I can’t wait to show you all that I’ve learned and come across during my hiatus.
But until then ladies and Gentlemen, Beth Hallows.
* * *
Do not be that person who gets my hopes up.
Do not be that person who finally melts this frozen heart.
I’ve been happily living a life of emptiness- that of which you may have never known.
I don’t mind being the third wheel, I don’t mind hearing about a lovely date, because I am happy not having to worry about texting back; wondering why he is mad at me because I said something wrong?
I enjoy the stillness; I enjoy the cold. I don’t want that heat brought near me at all.
But suddenly, there’s a knocking at the door and everyone is screaming at me to let them in.
They are selling me his characteristics. They are selling me his charm.
They are saying “but he is perfect”, and I am saying “who’s behind door number two?”
I don’t want this feeling. I don’t want this warmth. I want the freezing to continue behind a thick, steel door.
I don’t need to worry about who he is talking to, I don’t care if he’s coming over.
I like it here where I can worry about me.
So take his smiles and take his laugh. I don’t want it. I do not want to feel, because all that feeling just leads to disappointment. And for someone like me, that is too much to take.
See, I don’t have experience to tell someone how I feel. I can barely open up to myself. I don’t need to regret opening up to someone else.
But I probably will, and I’ll regret it in the morning when it is the first thing that pops into my head.
I’ve been through storms, you know, the kind that refuse to let the wounds heal; storms where the wind whips so harshly it tears the skin from your bones.
It is because of those storms that I have closed myself off and hidden from people like him. It is why I am socially awkward- emotionally unavailable I mean.
Please don’t try to make me feel; emotions are the literal cause of heartbreak, the actual cause of death.
Do you want to see me that way? Do you want to see heartbroken me? I’ve never shown anyone that pain, and I’ll assure you, it looks a lot worse than me showing up to a party alone.
I’d rather you see me like this; frozen yet happy in my eternally cold, bliss.
Please do not get my hopes up.
I won’t be able to handle the pitying smiles you give when you apologize that it didn’t work out, and that there will be next time. There won’t be a next time.
Trust me, I’m used to that.
I don’t want to hear that I am prettier than her.
Am I actually? Actually, I don’t care.
I don’t like feeling. Keep it far from me please.
Just let me be cold.