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Dear diary,
I'm assuming this is how everyone else starts these things right? To be honest, I think this is stupid but when I try talking about my feelings, my chest feels like it's being gripped by an iron fist. Even when it's the Tardis, and they're a great listener. I guess I've got some sort of fear of being an open book with people. How ironic. They were right though when they said I should write my feelings down, it's not healthy bottling everything up inside like this and I need to be strong for Graham and Ryan. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm writing to no one, maybe I should give you a name or something... I don't know. I'm not gifted enough to pour my emotions into song lyrics or poetry so instead, I sit here, crossed legged with a pen clamped in my hand, listening to some good old sad songs and a mountain of custard creams to keep me going, writing to you. We stopped in Sheffield this week so Graham and Ryan could catch up with friends and have a bit of a holiday so It's going to be extra hard to deal with everything which is also a reason I decided to start this now. I'm just rambling now, but here goes, my first diary...
The useless ramblings of a broken heart.
Dear Diary,
I went out today, alone, but I went for a walk none the less. I kind of needed a break from tinkering with the Tardis, they've been noticeably more irritable since we arrived in Sheffield so I had to get some air before one of us said something we'd regret. The weather was perfect, the autumn breeze made my coat billow slightly and pale yellows bounced in soft fractals onto the fallen leaves providing beautiful scenery. It was the park we always went to, our park, so I shouldn't have been surprised to see her there. I shouldn't have been but I still was. She took my breath away yet again as I took in her features. Her eyes were almost twinkling as she looked up at him, the corners creasing slightly and a tiny smile caressed the corners of her mouth. Light pink scorched her cheeks and nose as he wrapped her in his coat, a slight shiver noticeable on her part at the change in temperature. The tingling in my stomach had turned into full-fledged butterflies at the sight of her again, even just drinking her in from a distance could do crazy things to me. It didn't last though, and as quickly as they had appeared, the butterflies of joy were quickly replaced with a wistful pang to see her with someone else; in another's arms. I'm assuming that he's her boyfriend, it's the little things I notice which make me think so. Like the adoration in her eyes that used to be directed at me, and that smile. The smile that is brighter now, brighter than when she was in my arms. And it hurts so much to admit it but she did look happier today, happier than those times we spent at the park. It's only been a month (I think) and all I can do is sit here with a stupid diary, wallowing in my misery wondering if she's still hurting at all or if that smile is as genuine as it looks. It's bittersweet to think about that park, our park that she's sharing with another, that she's making new memories in. All with him. But I guess none of that matters, not in the long run.
She looked happier.
Sincerely, a broken heart xx
Dear diary,
I guess I'm only really writing to you when it's about her but that's the whole reason I started this diary so it makes sense, it's the thing that is on my mind the most. I was at the bar again today, I know I shouldn't, that I should channel my feeling into something pro-active instead of drowning them but sometimes it's too hard and sometimes all that helps it to feel numb, even just for a few hours. The back corner was shrouded in darkness with only a dirty orange bulb that cast dim shadows to provide enough light to see the bottle in front of me and the speaker was right next to me, sending jolts through my brain every time the bass kicked in. Perhaps these were the things that drew me to it in the first place, all those weeks ago. Graham and Ryan had left about an hour ago when it started to get dark, so I was sat alone, slouched over the table, the music's strong beat coursing through my body keeping my broken heart beating for me. My escape world was waiting for me, hours of watching people walk in and out whilst grasping a bottle of something strong, the music lulling me into a false sense of security. But, I guess it's called a false sense of security for a reason because I was only halfway through my decidedly last bottle when she came in, clutching his arm. And just like that, my false creations were shattered and my senses were heightened once again. The numbness was gone and in its place were old feelings that left a sour taste in my mouth; or was that just the alcohol? Either way, she had barely made it in the door and the vice on my heart had already begun to tighten further and further. I swear she gets prettier every time I see her, this time a flowing saffron dress grazed her knees and that infamous leather jacket hugged her shoulders. Just as I was admiring her outfit, I noticed him lean over slightly and whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was, it caused a visceral reaction as she threw her head back in not just a pretty giggle but full-blown laughter that came from deep within her belly. The boisterous sound lit up the whole bar and instantly made the butterflies which had been lying dormant in my stomach, flutter to life. I don't remember the last time I heard that sweet, melodic sound but it made me smile in spite of myself. My smile wasn't half as wide as theirs though and my coy smile vanished when the realisation hit me that their ear to ear grins were twice as wide as ours ever were. I had to leave, I had to get out, a deep red rushed into my cheeks as that was all I could think about. Leaving. I was up and out as promptly as I could, the cool air splashed my face when I reached the door as relief flooded my body, cooling the harsh red of my cheeks. I paused to catch my breath and thought. She looked happier.
Yeah, she looked happier, she defiantly did.
Sincerely a confused heart xx
Dear diary,
I'm faking it. This smile that keeps slipping from my face, the one that's slowly melting is my armour. Maybe it's the fact that I'm facing my feelings or that I keep seeing her but the fire it lights inside of me is melting away my armour layer by layer. I guess I'm like Shrek then... "Layers, donkey, onions have layers, Ogres have layers." Not that I'm an ogre or an onion but whatever, I've gone off topic here. As I was saying, I'm faking this smile. The one I have to patch up when Ryan and Graham are around. And then there are the lingering dark circles under my eyes from endless nights of laying wide awake, just thinking... or crying. I've stayed away from the bar tonight and I'm still deciding whether it was the best idea. I mean of course it was, it means I'm making progress, it means I can delve into my feelings properly but no one really likes that do they? No one wakes up and thinks, 'I know what I'll do this morning, I'll unpack all my baggage'. But I need to do this, I need to face myself at one point even if it's not all at once, slow and steady wins the race. So that's how I wound up writing to you.
Why do I need my armour? Why do I use my smile as armour? Why do I smile? I smile to hide the truth because I know she's moved on and I know underneath everything I am still shattered into pieces and I'm still trying to pick them up. It's not her fault though, the pieces are my own doing. Somehow I managed to break both our hearts at the same time. And I guess now I know that no one will ever hurt her like I did, which I'm grateful for. She didn't deserve to be hurt so much by me and she certainly doesn't deserve to be hurt by anyone else. She's too beautiful for that, and not just on the outside. She's like that feeling I get when I've parked the Tardis on the outskirts of a nebula and I just sit in the doorway with my legs dangling freely. Or like when we drank hot chocolate in front of a fire on a snowy planet, she warms you from the inside out, keeps your fire alight even in the darkest of storms. This is the proof, all that I need to know along with how I feel now whenever I think of her that no one will ever love her like I do either. But I did hurt her so I can't take it personally that she's moved on with someone else, in fact, she deserves it, to look as bright and glowing as she does now with someone who will treat her right and won't have to hide her from their dark past.
Graham and Ryan try to help but they don't understand, they've never been in this situation so all they say is to move one but they don't realise how hard that is to do. They say that when I do move on I'll be happier but until that happens, I'll just smile to hide the truth. Smile and hide my misery.
After all, I was happier with her.
Sincerely, a disoriented heart xx
Dear diary,
I was there again today, at the bar. I'm angry at myself for giving in to it but I couldn't cope, all day I just felt like I needed to scream at the top of my lungs. Scream and release all the pressure of emotions that were bubbling up inside my chest. But instead of releasing them, I drowned them. I pushed them even further down so that they wouldn't bother me. It didn't work and I should've known better. I should've known that she's still everywhere, still in every song, in every smell and in every taste. Just seeping through the cracks and somehow finding a way to squeeze my fragile heart even more. The drink never stops that, it just makes it hurt more when it eventually happens again. Today was one of those days.
I was sat in my usual seat, nursing my third empty bottle when the song came on; our song. The soft ballad with its gentle melody and words that I couldn't remember in my drunken state. I hummed along to it though, in spite of myself and it made me angry. The fact that everything reminds me of her, the fact that she has tarnished the world around me with her love and now I am here wishing she hadn't whilst she's with another, spreading joy in his world and showing him all the colours she once showed my life. Reds and oranges of endless nights sat out by the crackling fire, with her at my side, staring at the constellations and making up stories of how they all got there. The pale yellows that burst into our room in the mornings, giving her a soft glow as she lay there in a peaceful slumber. Or the deep yellows, of sunsets, once again lighting her up but in a different way; casting golden rays like that of her heart. The one I broke... There are many more colours and then there is those that she hasn't shown me, the ones she intended to show me, the ones I thought she would show me.
I sat there, all the colours swirling in my head, entwining with the alcohol, concocting a dangerous potion of love and hatred. Of joy and remorse. All that could bring me back to the real world was the cool condensation from my bottle, cooling the heat within and steadying my mind. And I kept telling myself over and over that 'she's happier, she's happier, she's happier'. But through all my trying, there was one question I wouldn't shake.
And for every 'she's happier', there was an 'isn't she?'
She's happier, isn't she?
Sincerely, a hesitant heart xx
Dear diary,
It's only been a week since we left Sheffield once again but it's back again, the feeling that makes my stomach drop and my palms clammy. The realisation that nobody could ever hurt her as I did. That no matter what heartbreak she goes through or how many she goes through, none of them will compare to the way I hurt her and how I left her so broken. It's funny to think how that's pretty impressive, the fact that I could hurt her so much that she is now numb to anything and everything else. Except it's not. It's not funny, it's messed up, that one person can have so much impact on someone else's heart and maybe I'm not talking about her anymore, but either way, we were both left broken by my actions. And now that everything's over and she's moved on, only now am I realising that nobody will ever need her as I did; like I still do. Every day I think to myself, why did it take you so long to realise that, that she was the love of your life and that now she's merely the one who got away. I guess it's true what people say, that distance makes the heart grow fonder but I don't think this is what they quite meant. I don't think that concept was intended for a broken heart, longing for its other half. But at the end of the day, I know and respect that others deserve her, to experience even a fraction of the love she gave me.
It hits me, all at once, in moments like this that I haven't been living. I've been so focused on surviving and getting through one day at a time that I forgot how to actually live all because one thought keeps me from moving on, from actually living once again. One thought, one fact. That I'm still in love with her.
But that doesn't matter because she looks happier, she does. With him on her arm instead of me, she looks so much more confident. Still, Graham tells me I'll feel that too at some point. He tells me that one day I will move on too and love someone else, have a life with another and possibly even a family. Ryan doesn't even try to convince me anymore, he's given up. Maybe he's realised that all his words just fell on deaf ears. The truth is that I do listen to Graham, and Ryan, and the Tardis but they don't realise that yes, I might be happy and in love once again but a part of my heart will always belong to her. I hope she feels the same way, that she won't forget the good times as well as the bad ones. I guess I can only hope because she looked happier, she did. I'll hope, and until I know anything for sure I could always try to smile and hide the truth. Smile and wait for someone else to come along who can love me once again and be the source of my happiness like she once was. But, until then, I'll just be lying to myself.
Because the truth is I know I was happier with her.
Sincerely, a hopeful heart xx
Dear diary,
I'm doing better, today I was at a new bar but I was not alone as usual. I was surrounded by the people who have been there for me through all of this and who love me despite it. They keep me grounded, making sure that I know I was in the wrong but that it shouldn't hold me back. They've been patient too, through all those days were all I could do was cry or just wallow in my own sorrow, they let me have my time to heal but were the ones to tell me that I needed to do something for myself once in a while. There are more and more days recently where I believe them when they say that I can be happy too, just like her. I saw her the other day and it still hurts but not as much because she looks happier, she does and that's a good thing. I may not be completely happy myself or for myself but I'm happy for her. It feels like a weight has been released from my chest just saying that, saying and fully believing that a part of me is happy. The iron fist is finally loosening its grip around my heart and it turns out that I don't have to scream at the top of my lungs to relieve some of that pressure. All I need is someone or something to talk to, in this case, you. Writing all of my feelings down has helped me in so many ways and although it still hurts, I am finally starting to live again and not just survive.
Ultimately, I knew and even hoped that she'd fall for someone new because she deserves it, she deserved to be loved by someone who won't hurt her as much as I did and now she is. She loves him and he loves her. Not as much as we used to because that kind of love is incomparable and will stay with both of us forever. I know it will. And for now, I'm happy, happy for her. Will I ever be truly happy? I don't know but as long as she is, that doesn't matter. But if by some off chance he hurts her as I know lovers can do, I'll be waiting here for her. If I could say one thing to her, if it's the last thing I ever say it would have to be that I love her, still. I'd make sure she knew that and if he breaks her heart, I want her to know...
To just know that I'll be waiting here for her.
Sincerely, a healing heart xx