Catharsis is defined as the elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression.
Today I turned away an amazing girl that genuinely liked me. I chose to break her heart because I couldn’t give myself to her the way I gave myself to you. I didn’t feel that passionate fire to protect, love and support her.
The worst part is she deserves my love more than you ever did and that alone is very difficult for me to admit to myself because in my eyes, you were divine. Unfortunately for me, these days you’re nothing but a vivid memory.
It’s easy for someone from the outside looking in to say, “time heals everything” and “in time” I’ll learn to forget about you but here we are, several years later and I still have not been able to kick this feeling.
I simply exist, gathering enough energy to get through each day, hoping that nothing reminds me of you and that I don’t hear your name.
I used to say “I love to love”. The pleasure of expressing my love and admiration for someone was an unrivaled feeling. Fast forward to now and the idea of loving someone has become absolutely terrifying, it’s no longer something I even want to be apart of.
You took that joy from me and turned my memory into a small footnote from your past and I want to hate you for that, but I can’t because you don’t owe me anything anymore. In contrast, you still strongly influence me without so much as a word.
Regardless of my frustrations over the past several years, I’ve done my best to not be bitter towards you but tonight I am bitter … I am bitter because I feel like somehow you just robbed me of the happiness that I deserve with the girl I sent away.
I know that’s unfair and illogical to pin on you but I do… tonight I am angry and it’s your fault. I’m pacing in circles screaming at the mirror that I’m mental and I’m better off in the ground, numb.
In my darkest moments, I’m reminded that ultimately it is my own mentality that keeps you around, haunting me. These unsent letters are cathartic and they allow me to release emotions that would eventually make me physically sick if I chose to bottle them up.
I’m writing you this letter tonight, knowing I do not cross your mind anymore, knowing that you no longer feel the same way toward me as I do for you and knowing that we will never share that magic again.
If there was one thing I wanted you to actually read from this letter it’s that I want you to be happy, regardless of where you are or who you’re with, even though I wish with all my heart that it was with me.
I must tell myself these things as some sort of self-motivating mantra to try to move on and rid the anxiety that comes over me when you pop into my head. This thought process has been painfully therapeutic, just simply not enough to cure me.
The idea is, I must feel all the pain there is to feel for you and then one day there shouldn’t be any left. Pretending I’m happy and staying occupied does not extinguish the feelings I have. This aching seems perpetual as once again, I realize that I’m still stuck on the memory of you with no end in sight.
At the end of the day, I’m writing you this letter because I’m afraid that I’m incapable of feeling the thrill to love again. That fear lingers and grows slowly during every conversation I have because I realize I don’t look at people the same anymore.
These days, the people of the world seem mostly dull and selfish. It’s as if you forcefully opened my eyes to see an ugly truth: that the world is a place where love isn’t always real and miracles don’t always happen.
That discovery is a painful lesson I wish no one else had to learn, but without this lesson, I would remain ignorantly happy and believe that the world is something that it’s simply not. So ultimately I have to thank you.
You have taught me there is beauty in the world, but for me to fully appreciate it, I must recognize how painful the world can actually be. Experiencing the “ugliness” of the world has allowed me to gain more understanding and appreciation for the moments that are actually beautiful.
Despite the fact that nothing is more deadly than a dark thought in a broken individual, I am still here, and I am still fighting my demons. I will not allow the memory of you to define me forever; tomorrow may not be better, the day after that might not be better, but eventually… it gets better.
“[The] sun wouldn’t feel so good if it weren’t for rain [and] joy wouldn’t feel so good if it weren’t for pain.” – Curtis Jackson