How it all start.
Realizing that someone who once loved you or whom you called your best friend; who once shared your dream and share your stories, someone you once called your confidant, told your past and entrusted with your future no longer loves you, could be one of the worst feelings ever.
If it happens for the first time when you’re younger, it can be devastating and fatal and not always funny to be experienced twice in an entire lifetime. Meanwhile, some persons have had it over and over again and still survived it but in most cases left with chattered perception about love and relationship. It can be fatal.
Assuming it is a woman, imagine that he’s the first one you ever fell for; he might not have been the first one to come your way or to kiss you, but his was the first approach or kiss to matter. You remember the shock, and the softness, and the lingering tenderness of his mouth on yours. It was the first time you ever thought: “I want to keep this; this is mine.”
He loves you. You can hardly believe it. He sends you little note where he writes your name over and over again. He paints your name and love stories everywhere around his life and you and everywhere could see it clearly. He calls you first thing in the morning and last thing at night. His words, rolling and echoing indefinitely into the dark waves of the midnight, wash over you; his voice is heavy and slow as he tells you that you alone understand that you are the chosen one or indeed the only one.
You can’t believe it. You try to resist, though with some mix emotions of strange acceptance, but it takes all of an instant for you to be swept off your feet. Swept off your feet, you lose all control over where you’re going and what you are doing. Not that it really matters. The undertow pulls out the ground away and you sink completely and drown. Willingly, entirely, without a last gasp or a hand raised to save yourself, you drown and get entrapped in that ocean called love.
You see yourself deeply immersed in it, over your head. You know it and still it doesn’t matter. Not as long as you can stay immersed in him. You grow accustomed to this kind of thought-alien lifestyle and strange feelings, where shapes are never quite sharp and light is always refracted. Other voices that once called to you grow faint. The gestures you make are careful and laboured, designed to keep you steady. They keep you where you are and of which being always near him will eventually become all that matter.
The day he stops loving you or, to be more specific, the day you realize he no longer loves you, you would lose breath and Little by little you will begin to realize that just around the corner lay the numbness of loss, the feeling of helplessness, emptiness and sleepless nights as something magical just slipped away.
The hurt is unfathomable. No one survives this on a fare-tale. It would not just be easy. You dive further down. The weight almost crushes you. It doesn’t matter. Sometime, somewhere you see people waking up, going to work, having lunch and dinner, sleeping through the night but to you all would just seem like a fading shadow. You think of such a life the way a child thinks about castles and dragons, all in vivid imaginations; you can imagine it but you know, somehow, that it is real.
Handling cases of heartbreak need extreme carefulness and maturity to conquer it. This is in the sense that it goes with so many uncountable and at times, uncontrollable instincts of negative vibes such as agony, pains, loss of weight, misery, disappointment, loss of appetite, grief, despair, heartache, letdown, sorrow, woes, mourning, depression, crying, separation and so much more.
To be cont’d…
Note: The topic is not gender inclined as it does also go vice versa.