I feel sad.
That’s the easiest way to explain it.
I’m sad. I’m disappointed. I’m hurt.

I’m trying to be mature. I’m trying not to hold onto the past. I’m trying to focus on today, to get through today, and look forward to tomorrow.
I’m really trying.

But my heart aches.
I sit here crying, because I’ve missed out on so much. And I feel stupid for crying over things I couldn’t be apart of.
My heart aches in envy. Because while I scraped myself back together and made it through the days numb, you explored and learned and laughed.
My heart aches from embarrassment. Gossip and rumors have spread throughout family and friends, but no one knows the real story. And they won’t ever know. And that’s supposed to be okay, but it doesn’t feel okay.
My heart aches in longing. I’m supposed to be by your side, but here I am miles away.
And my heart aches from being played with too roughly.

I’m supposed to let go. I have to let go of what happened, right? That seems to be the only way to be alright.

I want to be alright. And I’m trying. I’m trying so much.

But my heart aches. And I am sad. And disappointed. And hurt.

I am hurting.
I am in pain.

I haven’t written anything personal in a little while. These past few weeks have been filled with a lot of overwhelming emotions.

Things I thought I was moving forward from, resurfaced. And boy, has it thrown me through a loop.

I feel like I’ve grown immensely since my crumble, and I know I have so much more growing to do, but it is terrifying.

I’m filled with hope again, and that scares me. Because last time I was feeling hopeful, it was smashed in my face like a plastic plate covered in whipping cream.

How embarrassing is it, for the world to see you vulnerable and exposed.

And how difficult is it, to recover from a broken, shattered, crinkly crumbly heart.

I’m scared. Because standing in front of everyone covered in shame, weeping, and holding chunks of gory heart is a place I don’t want to return to.