When You Are Left For Someone Else

When you are left for someone else, count all the cracks in your ceiling.

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When you are left for someone else, collect all your tears in a crystal vase. Let them fall willingly, and do not think for a moment that this is any sign of weakness. Thank your body for having working tear ducts. Thank your body for this downpour of rain because your heart is about to enter a drought. Do not feel as if you must wipe your eyes when your roommate walks in. You have nothing to be ashamed of.

When you are left for someone else, count all the cracks in your ceiling. These flaws, these imperfections begin to eat away at you. You wonder if you were just too cracked. Too damaged. Are you too fucked up? Maybe this other person is smooth. You wonder if she has any frayed edges. You wonder why he likes her edges so much more than yours. Look back up your ceiling. It is still standing. It has been worn. It has bumps. It has cracks, but it is still standing. And so are you.

When you are left for someone else, take all your memories of your abandoned love and throw them in the fireplace. Immediately regret this rash decision and reach your hand into the flame. You burn yourself. And though this will not be the last time, your hand will start to callous.

When you are left for someone else, this someone else becomes the monster in your closet. She haunts you when the lights are off and the rest of the world sleeps. She occupies the darkest parts of your grey matter. She lingers in your bedframe, in your sheets, in that stupid pair of underwear you bought with him in mind. She is in the face of every girl you pass. You see your own failures reflected in her eyes.

When you are left for someone else, you will feel as if your insides are missing. You will feel reduced to nothing more than a pumpkin for carving, with uninvited hands scooping out everything that once made you whole. You will feel hollow.

When you are left for someone else, delete his number. Delete his Facebook. Unfollow his twitter. Unfollow his instagram. Try to delete his entire existence. You almost succeed, until you stumble upon some faint trace of his new life. You will feel punched in the stomach. In your darkest moment, you wonder if perhaps your existence is the one to delete.

It is not. I promise you, it is not.

When you are left for someone else, you will plant seeds of strength. You will dig your heels into the ground and allow roots to form. You will ground yourself in compassion, humility, love, and slowly, your battered ego will start to bloom. Springtime will arrive, and your leaves will be brilliant. You will be more vibrant, roses more beautiful. Your branches, once bare and drooping, now stretch farther. You can reach new places. You can reach new heights.

When you are left for someone else, find that old vase you once used to contain your sorrow. Mail it to the one that hurt you. He will need it one day. TC Mark