My Favorite Part of the Day.

I hate apologies. I hate how I always receive them after a pitiful amount of praise. I hate how it is always about how ``great”, "sweet ", "amazing ", or “beautiful” I am. I can say I understand my worth enough to know I am all those things and more. They never save the situation though, right? So, why say them at all? They always end up leaving when it comes to these kinds of situations. I hate even hearing why they're doing this to me. Those who send over their apologies may send them out of sincerity and I accept them. However, I still hate the nicety of it all, but I appreciate them, nonetheless. I can always understand or pretend to. I can always try to forgive them, but how after all that? It’s not fair if you ask me. I am the one who’s hurt, why should I forgive you after all the false hope I was given? If I am so great like they say, why was I treated like that? 

I still kept the sweatshirt. I never gave them the bracelet I secretly made them. It was sage green, brown, and white. I still look at the music they’re listening to. Even though the playlist I made is gone, I still check their profile now and then. Just to see if we are both feeling the same things. I came home to two vases, one empty per my request to Lily and Payton, the other still full of dead flowers. If you ask me, it is a horrible metaphor for how it all feels. I do not want to delete photos from the mountains. I haven’t deleted anything if I’m being honest. How cruel it is that I am reminded of it all now. I was not even mad when it happened. I wanted to understand. I wanted to help. I can still barely wrap my head around it all.    

In the process of everything falling out, I once again found myself putting their needs before my own. I know they did not ask for that and they never will, but I did anyway. I will forever be kind and understanding or try to at least, even though they will never ask for that. I will forever try to be better than I was in the past, even though they never asked. I will always try, even though they never asked me to. 

That is the funny thing about all of this. I hurt my own heart over and over again only to build it back up for myself. Out of all of this, I remind myself not to lose myself in the mix. Along with that, I have learned how great it is to be given a heart like mine. How amazing is it to love others the way I do? How blessed am I to show others what kind of love I can bring to their table? 

I am a woman with a brain, but also a soul or heart who loves so many people so deeply. Although the love I give to others may be taken for granted, I do not regret it now. I used to regret it, but now I do not. Why would I regret something or someone who made me so happy? Who would I be if I said that I do not miss that? If you had asked me a year ago if I believed this, I would say no.

I have had such heavy feelings and thoughts lately and I know many people can understand these exact feelings. The “so close but yet so far” feeling. The “pick me or don’t pick me up at all” feeling. The “right person wrong time” feeling. 

Yet I am reminded how lucky I am to share my laughter, jokes, hugs, and sweet time with others. I am angry and I was angry. A part of me still is angry at them, but it will all pass. 

 

In the silence, I miss them the loudest which makes it all fragile again.

 

Like most things, it will pass. The feelings I have for others may never pass, but the anger and sadness will if I allow myself to heal properly. With healing comes growth and with growth comes forgiveness. Sometimes more forgiveness for myself than others although both deserve it equally. 

I talk about growth consistently, but as usual, healing and growth are not linear. I keep trying to be happy with the time I was given but I still feel robbed. Robbed of the time I could have been spent elsewhere, but I did not. Robbed of my feelings. Robbed, just robbed. It is not fair; we both knew it. Yet, I wish they could steal more from me. I miss when I was asked, 

 

“What was your favorite part of the day?”

 

Almost every time I would want to say, “talking to you” and now I wish I said it more. However, my favorite part of the day was writing this, in case anyone was wondering. 

The road to being better is not a path I would have chosen, but I did anyway. My heart is too precious for it to be put down in the way it was. I am exhausted in more ways than one, but the lesson is worth it to me. So, what will be my favorite part of the day?