dance of love and sharks

"Disappear"

When you hurt me after disposing of the emotion that tried to fix things with you in the worst way week after week, but you told me "stay."

When I tried to make an effort for a reunion and escape games room together and work as a team to solve a mystery. Almost like a punishment, just the next day, you reopened the wound to hurt me again (the second worst day).

When you laughed at the intense pain you caused as if my words from 15 or 20 minutes before hadn't mattered at all. I was standing there at the door, inside a glass cage, just watching you with a twist in my stomach that twisted me inside.

I remember every gesture, every moment when I try to focus on something else; that humiliation appears: "You are nothing, go away, disappear."

(what you didn't say) but the way you bumped into me one day as if I weren't standing there... it attacks my stomach, and my mind reminds me as if it happened yesterday when I try to forget.

My mind insists. Something happens there. They hurt you a lot, and standing there unable to do anything as if you had no guts: I won't let you live. You should have broken everything.

I hold my body as if it were bleeding in parts, but nothing happens.

When you broke me completely inside and, transformed into another person, you pointed out the unspoken "this is not your life."

Your cold pincers disappeared everything that connected me to everything.

After pricking my heart and sanity until exhaustion, I saw all the opportunities to live pass before my eyes.

I came to dissociate and do things unconsciously. I put all my effort into staying awake. I was afraid of myself because I didn't know what I was doing. I spent some time being afraid of myself. I lied to my boyfriend and therapist, pretending some kind of negligence. But it had already happened several times with other things. It wasn't fun, and it wasn't dramatic. At times, my consciousness disappeared. It felt like they were hitting my brain with your openings and then screams. I don't care if you laugh. It's true, and it's the pain I still have inside.

The hope of friendship kept me sane, doing the right thing, holding a job while looking for another. It was literally...

Feeling the use of body, energy, will, emotions, feelings, disposition, every part of me dissociated and crushed. Transposed. It felt and still feels without a solution.

It's as if you found the formula to direct all my joy of living and turn it into emptiness and sadness.

The other day, while crying from watching the game alone, I saw a message from a friend. You reminded me of him. I entered a black network and saw you standing there, looking at the distance in time through a curtain. I traced your face and dark circles with my fingers. The first time I searched for you. I read three things you wrote and left. Entering at that moment helped me see you as a human being and not as a tin war robot or as a perfect man I really admired and still admire your skills. It wasn't the same as in April when I neither searched for you nor wanted to find you nor wanted to know anything about you, you appeared in a notification of a blue network, and I had a nervous breakdown. I recorded videos crying alone because even writing wasn't enough to explain everything my body remembered when seeing your face and that you had seen something of me.

"Disappear," you showed me when you progressively removed me from your life using my trust and mine.

Foolish, humiliated, shattered, broken.

Treated like a person to be lied to. Undeserving of the truth.

Of a better "get out of here, disappear from your life."

One day after eating homemade pudding, all the twists in my stomach resonated. Those I hid with the love of having her in front of me.

The next day, when the bodily sensation appeared. I screamed at the walls. I cried to the distance. I found myself with the desire to hurt you. I wrote that I pushed you into the sea full of white sharks after pricking my finger with a drop of my blood and letting it fall, like an evil witch on a dark stone cliff. I stayed to watch. It worked for a while.

The point is that a broken life isn't fixed with words, and it's unworthy to dedicate my life to destruction when I fought 20 years for building something else. Words serve to express that I'm furious, even if you laugh at me.

The efforts of 20 years that I will try to recover, I hope, have not been invested in vain. Since childhood, I've fought to avoid the way I was raised, like many other women; they will be worthy by their fruits or my death.

I have no other way to live.

I hope to appear differently, doing justice to my mundane efforts over the years to improve and be a better person for myself and others.

To define is to limit. I won't walk around with modest forms.

The truth is, I can't live with the thorn of not doing justice to the efforts of my own history.

"The one who truly was, is not lost. Intensity is a form of eternity."

Did you take everything that constituted me so that I would love you forever (i wanting it back in a dance of love and sharks)?