I broke down a while ago. Tried as I may to pick up the pieces. Memories to memoirs of how the “completed” can feel depleted. L-O-V-E is the biggest emotion. As a matter of fact, it’s a behemoth. A true shape-shifter. L-O-V-E can simultaneously leave you totally vulnerable and absolutely conceited. It seems determined to make you acknowledge its presence. I often am not sure if it is trying to convince itself that it exists or trying to convince me. I know L-O-V-E is there. Because the pain won’t stop.

I am eager to provide powerful insight. My own unique or original take on this whole L-O-V-E thing. Some profound hurt unlike any other experienced then or since. Truth is, I am not so sure my version is not exactly like the one told from the beginning of time until the inevitable one from Taylor and Tom. From the inaugural tomber amoureux to the last final goodbye. This is merely ordinary love shit right? Just so happens to be my turn to speak.

In the end heartbreak is all apocalyptic hindsight. Those of us who have succumbed to it resurrect as some sort of lovelorn zombie. Weary, yet aware of the mistakes made that that led them to emotional death. Mindlessly roaming in search of what they used to know as being “satisfied” or “content”. Yearning for normalcy. Gorging not on brains, but self-pity. That and large amounts of ice cream and chocolate. Ironically attempting to find it among the surreal. Asking ourselves how someone can still be alive yet every waking day we find ourselves mourning them.

I know where you at. I was there too. When you can’t let go. When you still see your former lover’s reflection. Still talk to them, even when you are all alone. Those times when you retrace your steps. That realization that the one you fell so hard for now can hardly stand you. When you can’t help but run everything back. The panic attacks. The times when someone new bears vintage resemblance. You know, those remnants. I still think S.H.E. is still holding on to me. Which segues to question and wonder as to why S.H.E chose to let go. How did everything change? Why will we never be us again? Just more unnecessary pain.

I remember being proud of the fact that I was a viable companion. I am guilty of thinking I had what it takes. Heartbreak is the burden of proof that I was wrong. Proof that I failed. Proof that I couldn’t go the distance. You try your damnedest to find a way to end up on the same page with someone you L-O-V-E only to wind up bookmarking what you failed to remember then but don’t want to forget now. Same old story I suppose.

Cupid doesn’t tell you much after piercing you with that arrow. He just sends you out into the unknown into some Darwinian tryst where the outcome is feel or be killed. Rom-Com’s and chick flicks are made for a reason. L-O-V-E can often be just like a movie. But not always the movie we have in mind. In a relationship we can sometimes feel like we are superheroes. Like Iron Man or Wonder Woman. Capable of any and every thing. Then we find out we’re really just The Expendables.