Breakup rally

I hit the trenches and climbed back up with rocks falling on top of me; the very ground underneath me crumbled. The atmosphere was too thick, choking me.

I’ve never been claustrophobic, but my life was closing in on me.

My very existence in the universe; my relationship with gravity and the floating blue rock in space felt disconnected.

I was spinning on an axis somewhere in space, hoping that detaching myself from reality would make that life more livable.

Begging for survival-begging for it to get better. But you should never have to beg someone for human decency.

All I wanted was love.

But when I looked in the mirror and realized the light inside of me had been dimmed so much that I forgot how to smile, I knew I wouldn’t find love there. Ever.

From coast to coast, it was sink or swim. I was sinking. No matter how many times their cherished words promised to make me swim. Still, I sank.

Somewhere in the universe, I knew there had to be something better.

Treachery is no longer a friend of mine.

Treason is not a way of existence.

The burdens I carried were not my own.

They were done unto me, like thrashing waves knocking over baby sea turtles just trying to swim.

For I was not my own, I was someone else's.

So now, the second toothbrush in my bathroom belongs to my best friend.

I don’t sleep with a top sheet, and no one is around to judge me for it.

I cook for one and eat pizza for breakfast.

I have too many candles that smell like pumpkin spice.

I decorated my room the way I wanted to.

I have more crystals than I can count lining my room and I charge them every full moon.

I talk on the phone too loudly to my family at 11:30 pm.

I pay my bills with the money I earn and get takeout too often.

I watch Grey's Anatomy reruns as often as I want.

I listen to my favorite songs on repeat.

I pick my own coffee creamer and no one gets to object to the strange flavors I choose.

I learned how to build things and have my own tool kit.

My dresser and nightstand were made with my bare hands and guidance from the people who genuinely love me.

I am graced with memories of self-growth.

I have the body they always wanted me to have and I treat it with respect.

I spent so long waiting for someone to protect me; waiting for someone to hug me so tight that all my broken pieces mesh back together again.

No one gets to touch me without my permission.

And to quote Demi; “You don’t do it for me anymore.”

‘Cause, it turns out that I like sleeping alone.

More room for me.

There's nothing wrong with taking up space.

I’ve come to realize that being alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely.

And somewhere along the way, I learned how to smile again.

I found my light again.

I found that no one else has to hang the moon for me. The stars that shine at night are living inside my eyes.

I lit a fire inside of myself.

I am a flame that someone would be daring to touch; warm, bright, and brave.

I rose from the ashes like a phoenix.

My feathers push off those who try to cut me.

From being stripped bare and completely starting over, to finding myself.

It turns out that I found love again.