HOURS IN HELL

Hell...

A place I was stuck still for days. Days that turned into months.

Most of my friends and family probably didn't understand what I was going through. They just shrugged me off and did not take me seriously when I tried to explain. But I don't blame them. I mean, they were not the ones walking in my shoes.

I was the one walking in my shoes... More like crawling...

Heartbreak.

My first heartbreak threw me to hell.

I remember how it all started. We started off as cool friends in college. We instantly clicked from the beginning. We ate together, drank together, hang out with a bunch of friends together and we even went out for night strolls together. We had an amazing friendship to say the least. But the intense chemistry between us couldn't let us stay just as friends.

So we became more than friends. We started making out and kissing and tearing each other's clothes apart just for that taste of sweet skin. We would hide in empty, dark classes and devour each other so hungrily and passionately in the dark corners.

I fell so deeply and recklessly in love with him. And so did he.

And that is how we ruined that beautiful friendship.

He started acting weird and foreign and I became more desperate and clingy. I really tried to work on whatever it is we had. I even asked to meet up with him just so I could apologize for whatever wrong I had done. But that was not even enough to revive the friendship. It was dead. We would really never go back to how things were. But I still tried to force communication and that is when he stopped. He stopped talking to me. He stopped texting me. He completely cut off all communication.

What annoys me most is that when he suddenly went MIA, I was worried sick about him. Thinking maybe something terrible had happened to him. He had anxiety so I was always constantly worrying about him.

It was a hard slap in the face when my best friend told me that he had a new number and that they were still in contact!

The night I heard that, I remember coiling myself on the couch and crying my eyes out. My heart broke into pieces. I grew numb. That draining feeling of emptiness tugged at me every single day for months. I would sleep all day and stay up all night listening to Olivia Rodrigo's driver's license, crying and wondering where I went wrong.

But I healed.

I will not lie that the process was easy. Because it was not even close to easy. It tore my self esteem to shreds. Every single day was spent drowning in waves of self-doubt that came with tears. And let us not get started on the confidence-crushing panic attacks.

But I healed.

I healed without an apology from him. I healed without an explanation from him. I healed without the closure that I deserved. And somehow that was kind of a victory for me. I emerged stronger and wiser.

I healed.