The Break Up

I thouht I was going better. For a couple of weeks I prayed the Lord everyday and it made me feel better. That's what I thought. The Lord cannot help me with that pain.

When I think of my father, my family, the Capes and the essay I have to write, when I think about all these things, I do not think of him.

For some weeks I really believed I had forgotten him, that all was definitively over, that my life could start, again. I even thought I would meet someone, I would be able to love, again. Big mistake. A lonely moment, a word, the sound of a piano and a lot of tiny details come to your mind, and make so many souvenirs live again. Happy memories, full of love and joy. But they are quickly caught by more painful ones; when loneliness fills the heart, where the tears sing during the night, where love is injured, even killed. How can it be possible? After more than one year?

Hey! I know it's been a long time since the last time I wrote anything in here. But for my defence, I 've been busy: home, lessons...well. So here it is, in a few days it will be a year since he broke up with me. Gosh. And I still feel so bad;;; I spent my whole week end crying, huh and today too. As long as I am alone, in tne train, in my flat, or even at home, well, as long as I am alone I cry. I can't prevent the tears from rolling on my cheeks...For Godsake! I so want him back. You know it's very hard during the day but as if it was not hard enough now I even have dreams about him!!!! it's been a long time snce I wrote anything. Well it's a bit hard, it's my week of exams and I have so much to do.

I haven't done anything the past weeks, and I haven't seen anybody either. It's just that I don”t want to see anybody, I just want to stay alone. Actually this is not quite true, I feel good when I am at home, I mean at my mother's. I don't really feel good but I feel a bit better. I'd like to be with my mother right now, and my sisters. I miss them...even if was with them four days ago. I really suffered a lot the past weeks. I am ok now but it's because my mind is busy with the exams. I know it will come back, tomorrow night. When they will be done, the emptiness will come back.

Last week was just awful, I missed Joris so much. I had a lot of dreams, where he was in, I was always thinking about him, and the worst thing happened on saturday, while I was doin shopping with my mother and my sister. I saw him. Thanks God he did not see me. But it broke me, really. I took my trolley and I went right to the car. I sat, and I cried. That was really not the good day to see him. He was not alone, he was with two guys, at least that was not his girlfriend. On the evening there were some friends of my sister, to celebrate her birthday. I was so bad I drunk too much. On the next day I did the same. Well I felt even more bad.

Death is peaceful. Easy. Life is harder. But what can I do? I am not going to commit a suicide. I cannot do it, I love my mother, my sisters, my family and my friends to much to make something so stupid. And we only have one life, so death is not a solution. But anyway, life is hard. T's nothing as we imagined it would be, it's always slightly different, even when you want something simple, there's always something that you have not expect which happens. This is life. That is the story of my life.

I didn't write a word yesterday. There was nothing to say anyway. I spent my day at the library to work on an exam that I probably failed. End of the story.

I really didn't think I would write something today, til I realised I was crying while listening goodbye my lover. And I am now listening to still loving you. OK I am acting like a fool, like a child. I thought I would study today but instead I watched the last chapters of HIMYM, I suck. I can't get motivated. Yes I think of him, yes it's literally killing me. I feel I am leaving, I know that. It as if my heart, my life, all what I am was a big fire, and joris, without even knowing it, was throwing big buckets, full of water, on it. Gosh this is killing me! I know I have to do something. But do I really want to? Do I have the strength to do anything? It is as if the countdown of my life had started. In November I will take this exam, the Capes (to become a teacher). I really have to pass it, I need to work, I need to earn money. I can't longer rely on my mother, I’m gonna be 24. I need to grow up. But it 's gonna change so many things. It's gonna be the end of so many things. Doing whatever you want, whenever you want, visiting your friends every time you feel like seeing them, organising big aperos, even if it's only Tuesday, being so fucking drunk you don't remember your name but you don”t care because you're having fun and you don't have to get up the next day. Seeing your family every week ends, because you love them and you need them. I don't want to grow up. Being an adult sucks. It's not funny at all. Life sucks. Fucking circle of life!!! you have to see the people you love leaving because it's how life works.

So I really have to move...I feel like a robot, like a zombie. I get up on morning because I have to, I go to uni, I listen to what the professors say because I have to, but I don't speak to anyone, because I don't want to. The only thing which really cheers me up is when I go to bed, because each time I hope I will wake up in a better world, or I will realize the last months were only a nightmare and that the dream can go on. Or maybe because I hope I will dream of him...Of course the awakening is always very painful and I always have to fight with myself to leave the bed. This bed is more or less an island where I feel safe. Actually my whole flat is my island, is my bubble, where I feel like nothing could ever hurt me again. Some people create protective shells, I did build walls and dig moats. I will let nothing hurt me again. I opened my heart once, and it has been broken. There is no way I’m gonna live this again. I'd prefer to live with this pain rather to live the pain of a break up.

The only person I feel like talking to is one of my friend. He lives on the other side of the planet. Well I’ve always been lucky.

Even if what I write sounds desperate or full of despair, I am not frustrated or depressive. I'm just a girl, who loved a boy, so much that she could have died for him. And this boy, mean, has killed her by breaking her heart. This is painful, more than most of the people, I mean people who never had to go through this pain, can think. These people always say 'don't worry time heals everything, you will find someone else'. But deeply inside you know they are wrong. Maybe you'll find someone else, but you'll never live what you lived wt Him.

Let me tell you my story, and how I got to this point of bitterness, and you'll realise it is not bitterness, it is just despair, because when you're left with so much love inside your soul and your heart, you really wonder what you are going to do with it, and you really feel desperate.

Three years ago we meet at some friends'. Again. We were in the same college and I knew his sister. She's the same age than me. He is younger, just from one year. We did not know each other. But they were lots of rumours about him: that he was a bad guy, who slept witl lot of girls, who cheated on them, who was often completely wasted and who loved weed. Not a pretty picture, isn't it? But I am the kind of people who doesn't believe rumours. And if by any chance rumours are true, I al the kind of person who thinks that there is always something good in every person and that everybody deserve another chance. Well I used to be that person, I am not anymore. There s nothing I hate more than human nature. Man is bad, it is his nature. Anyway...So we met at the place of one my childhood friend, Sandy. Her parents were away and she had the house free for five days. Indeed it was what we call a bridge in France, there was a bank holiday on the Thursday so Friday became a bank holiday too. On Thursday we organised a barbecue. One of my friend, Romain, who was invited, called me because he was in front of the house? I was so happy to see hi! It had been ages since I saw him! I opened the door, he gave me a hug and then my eyes met joris'. I fell in love, immediately. We talked a bit this evening and I found him so interesting. We had the same projects, we wanted the same things, both of us wanted to travel around the world. I was going in England three months after to be a French assistant in a college and he was leaving for Germany to be an Erasmus student. I invited him at my place the following week because I organised a big party too. He came, I was so excited to see him again. My cousin, gaetan was here, and what I didn't know was that his girlfriend, Sarah, had cheated on him with joris. Gosh...but nothing happened. Thanks god...we had a good time, there were so many people, everywhere, it was awesome. I remember I was drunk and I told him: 'come on guy, you're handsome, so am I, let's have a baby he will be gorgeous.' OK I was really drunk because I never usually say this kind of things. Next morning was awful: no coffee. Well in this time I really needed a coffee every morning to feel good. If I haven't got any coffee, t was a nightmare for all the persons surrounding me. There was no coffee. Well we had coffee but the coffee machine was broken. Guess what? Joris managed to make some, with a kettle and two plastic glasses. I fell in love, again. Then, he gave me his number and he left. For a whole month we did text each other, but it was really hard. Because it was like flirting for the first time and I always needed help from my friends to help me answering. I felt like a 15 years old girl who had never had any boyfriend. Each time I saw him I had butterflies in my stomach, my hands were wet, I was shaking. And it was the same thing for him.

I always knew that one day or another I would write a diary. I often tried, but it always ended up with boring me. Every time. But maybe this it it. Maybe I do need to write down my thoughts, my feelings, all the things that cross my mind. Or maybe not all the things, just some of them. Not to share them, just to give my mind some release, to light my conscience and my heart. Maybe I need it to make some things clear, to try to understand and most of all, to forget about some of them. I like writing. I like to see what is good in people, their real nature, to write about important things to them, to make them cry with joy hearing beautiful stuff about a memory/ to make them dream , to make them smile and to make them forget, for a couple of seconds that they live in a cruel world where magic and happiness do not longer exist. I don't like talking. I love talking, laughing and getting fun with my friends. But I never confide my feelings or thoughts to anybody. I don't like that. Why would I bother people with my personal problems ? Everybody have problems. And I hear enough people talking about what is wrong with their life to not annoy anyone with mine. So maybe writing could be a good deal, really, maybe it will make me feel better. I don't know. Do I really feel so bad ? I mean, I am nearly 24, I am about to take my diploma and end my studies, I’ve got project, friends, a family who loves me. I think. So, why do I feel so empty ? I know I mean a lot for people, some of them even envy me. Idiots. For others I am an extravagant person, always happy and smiling. However, when I look in the mirror the reflect doesn't give me this image. Everything is in what you look like. It's exactly what our world is made of : reflections. We all are puppets ; with specific roles, role to keep and role to play. The world is a huge stage where some are just pawns on the game and others pull the strings. I can't even fall down. Too many things, too many people are relying on me. I was this pretty confident smiling person...until my world crashed down. Some years ago. Three years ago. Joris. Love at first sight. It really was. For both of them/ No need to explain everything, what happened is anchored in my spirit and will never escape. He cheated on me, he lied to me and he dumped me. Free fall. Big drop. Love: having so many projects with him, not being able to even imagine your future without him sharing your life, belonging to a whole thing which would perfectly work, giving your soul, offering all what you are, not being afraid of life, ever. Can it be possible that you're not the kindred soul of yours ? It's gonna be a year since he left me, and I didn't get over him. I've never seen him since. Anyway. His absence fulfils my horizon, my life. In the night I hear them talk, the colder story ever told, somewhere far along this road he lost his soul, to a woman so heartless. How could you be so heartless ? He is everywhere I look, I can feel him, I can picture him. I know he changed, I know he didn't become someone nice, so why am I torturing myself like this ? Why can't I turn the page ? Why don't I want to turn the page ? I know he won't come back. And he hurt me. So what ? Is it, I don't know, because I loved him with a pure and sincere love that I am kind of bound to him ? I don't want to meet another guy, I don't want to ever fall in love. I need to feel myself in danger, but also safe. I don't want to live a banal, lame story, without any turnings points, which would quickly fall in a lame and boring routine. I need passion, violence, a love story which would start with a glance and which would be constantly the prey of doubts. So, the kind you only find in bad romantic movies or really bad novels, you know the ones you can only find in the small shop of the train station. No need to see a psychologist to understand that I am not ready to get involved in any relationships, right now. When he did leave me, all the things I believe in, all the things I had hope and faith for, well, all these things vanished. They completely disappeared. I had the worst time of my life, this was pretty tough. I had nightmares all nights, I didn't want to see anybody and I didn't eat. A real torture, which started last may, which calmed down for some time and which came back, being more violent as ever. It's like a big hole had been dig in my chest. A hole which never closes itself. Sometimes, when I am with people I like, the hole seems to cover itself, as if these moments were little stars which would form a veil, a protector veil. Back to reality, it's even harder. This big hole, the fact I feel completely hollow, that I’m only the shadow of myself, that I am a pale copy of what I used to be, all these bad feelings remain. And nothing will ever change it. Maybe one day I’ll feel better, but right now this hole fulfils me, it is here, I can feel it, and it hurts me. But I got used to this pain. And actually I don't want it to go away because it is the only proof he existed, that he was part of my world, that we lived something good together and I don't want to forget. Hundred of things flew away when he left, and forgetting our story would kill me. I can't, I have to survive this, at least for my mother and my sisters. So, months ago my life switched to nightmare. While I thought I had found a balance in my life and a meaning to it, I woke up. I did not forget him, and I miss him. But he had changed, and now he lives his life, he enjoys it without ever caring about me. I always have this weird feeling that I will never be able to love again, that I gave him all the love I had, all the sweetness in me, all my trust. Love and trust are very rare things, particularly with me. I trust few people. So I really feel as I gave him all what I was. Everything will remain unique, this passion born for a first glance, the butterflies in my stomach each time I saw him, each time I kissed me. I like to think love is like this: imagine the heart is a vase and that the feelings you feel for this special person fill this vase. So, if it's a pure and sincere love, a true love, it will overflow, and the feelings will invade your soul, all your being, in tumultuous , violent, magical waves. These waves will make you alive. This is exactly how I felt for joris. He made me live. I have no idea of our I am going to live without him. OK, it's been eleven months I managed to do it. But it is a torture, I live one day at the time. I can't project myself in the future, even just for a week, it's freaking me out. He's gone. He let me. He abandoned me. The huge hole in my chest seems to grow bigger wt time. When he left, he took with him all my dreams, my hopes, my laughs, my smiles...I only have memories left. Our memories. He seems to have put them in a box, under a mountain of other stories. I am just a girl among many others. These memories haunt my mind. When I close my eyes, I see them, they are here, right in front of me, dancing, flying, hurting me. The first time we met, first time we kissed, first time he told me he loved me, surprise trips in Germany or England, Spain, Scotland. Of course, they are not all good memories. Some of them are pretty bad actually. But I did love him. And these memories seem to make fun of me and even come to visit me at night. They come like waves to flood my soul. They hurt me, they make me suffer. Well he makes me suffer. And yet, god knows my father is good in this area. Even if memories stay, they get with time. And it scares me; I don't want to forget, because forgetting is dying. Blabbing father maybe I’ve got a problem, I’m not even able to confide to myself, come on! It's just that I get this impression that if I said nothing, my feelings will grave somewhere where nobody will ever find them, and all will be fine. I don't want to expose them because it would weaken me. Maybe I’m wrong, well I’m probably, but this is what I believe in and this is what keeps me strong, this is what enables me to fight against all the attacks of life. Why do we have to fight? Why do I have this impression of always being on a battlefield? I know I shouldn't complain, people, millions of people, suffer more than I do. But I have to confess that I don't really get what is happening in my life right now. I didn't picture my life this way. I never imagined I would suffer this way. I was so naïve. I thought that because I was a nice person, like very nice, nothing would happen to me. I was such a fool to believe this, I am not different than the others and it seems that everyone has to fight to gain his place in Heaven. Can we be happy? I mean can we be happy all our life long? Happiness is, according to me and I am maybe wrong, like a falling star. It is made of thousands of small sparkles, which appear when they want and which form/create a pretty glittering train in our life. This falling star goes so fast, it never slows down, it never stays either. But it often comes back, when you don't expect it. Is it possible that, such as the stars, happiness can die, is it possible for the falling star to never come back again? I think so. It would explain why I feel so empty.