Broken hearts

"A broken heart can be unbearable. It's like having broken ribs. No one can see it but it hurt everytime you breathe..."

I really wanted to end it. Even when I knew it was wrong, I remained, still. It was kinda tough putting up with that thought. Everything had a way. Was this the way? Even so how to go 'bout it?

   I stared into her eyes, guilt ridden. She was hurt. I could feel the pain and disappointment turn into anger from her words. Geez. Tony, you're an idiot.

   Her words growled, "How can you do this to me? To have a girlfriend? At your age? Do you have any idea of the embarrassment you made me bear? What have I not taught you? Young man--..."

   There wasn't a moment I didn't contemplate. It was out of immaturity. I was impulsive, naive, yearned for affection and I looked for it in a wrong way.

Ever since he left, a deep part of me went along with him. I never hated him. Just pained. Life became numb. Why? Not like he cared about us anyway. A sorry excuse for a Father. He was a coward.

Mother did all she could so I wouldn't feel his absence. Times were tough, rough, but we paved through together. Until I messed up. Big Time.

   "..--you disappoint me."

That was a sentence I loathed. He made me feel that way and it sucked. Like I was an unwanted seed from a mutual communion of lustful desire. How repulsive.

   "I bought, gave u all u needed and wanted. What more do u want?"

It's funny when people think money can buy everything.

   " Y'know what? Why do I even rant? Tomorrow, go end things with that girl. It's your problem if it grows to be more serious than this. What if you got her pregnant or she's been with someone else and just using you then pins a pregnancy as yours?

" Will your supposed love for her take responsibility, pay for the bills or you think you know what love is at your age. Goodness, I raised you well. I didn't give birth to a moron. Not everyone out there is a martyr or saint. People are evil, Anthony. " She continued, leaning forward a bit over the dining table's edge, gripping the covers with venom.

" When you go to school tomorrow, end everything. If you like, listen or choose not to. A word's enough for the wise. Any happens, it isn't my business. What you feel's just a bunch of hormones that all youngsters or teens, your age develop."

And she left for the kitchen. Sigh. At last. The lecture was over.

   Mothers did talk a lot in matters as this but it was for our own betterment. Dad's too. Mine? I was unlucky.

All in all, life's lame. The hard part was still yet to come. I needed to break up with Emily.

Just when I felt something good blossom. A girl who stood by me even though I was a total jerk to her. I don't know if I truly love her or its the 'hormones'  like mum said or maybe its Infactuation.

I don't even know if a being like me could fall in love, love or be loved.

I'm SCARRED to the depths. Nothing fitted right. The images registered in. I could see myself - the younger me, 10 years.

Waiting by the gate of the school, everyone had left. Just me, by the lousy street. My mum would come. Though she was always late. Her wicked boss was always a stumbling block. But she needed the job. It paid well,more than enough for us to get by.

Another was us [father, mother and I], returning from an amusement park going home. It was a splendid day. I felt alive,as an angel.

That day, unicorns seemed to be real with rainbows shooting outta their horns. And I fantasised swimming in a puddle of chocolate [ it was really mud. My mom was furious]. I had both my parents with me. I said I wouldn't sleep that night so that he wouldn't leave again. I really begged him.

   He promised to stay even when mother's faint smile gave him away. I was a gentle child, innocent, full of hope and aspirations. I chose to see the light. But I was weak. Waking up at the middle of the night, he was gone as always. I cried that night my heart burned.

Back to the present, I left the dining are, trudging along the tiled floor, up the stairs, took a right and finally slammed the door to my room, locking it as well.

    Mother and I do get along but that was when I wasn't channeling a mood swing. We'd laugh and joke at our mistakes. She'd teach me how to bake cookies. I'd steal them. I tried to bake but somehow it'd look and smell like burnt stake. We'd do make-ups. I'd do hers and she'd do mine, exceptionally cruel enough to make me appear like a psychotic clown - JOKER [Yeah. She was that good].

Fridays were awesome. Movie night on a friday with popcorns, a mountain of junk food, a bucket loaded list of movies; Fantasy, crime, paranormals, no boring lovey-dovey romance films. Just us with non-fiction and fiction. When we would go out, people actually thought we were siblings. Yeah. My mom and I. Two peas in a pod [so I thought]..

The door was locked, my back slid down against its surface until I'd feel the tiled floor beneath. I wanted to be alone right now. Mother would understand. I needed solitude, to feel everything; anger, pain, hate, heart-ache and all other weary emotions. It was heavy.

    My vision blurred all of a sudden but the tears only pricked. It was difficult to roll out. I'd cried enough in the past for my body to disdain this method of venting out the pain. Besides it wasn't manly. Slowly, I crawled up to my bed. And slumped on it with a soft thud that brought forth a breath of misery.

The moon peeked through the window, its radiance reached out to me, like it knew my grieviances. Pitiful me. I smiled, pathetically sad. I never envisioned this; my predicament. The anxiety. Life was unsure, unfair, rather [Sigh]

    " Damn it all" a frivolous thought cried out. I didn't say, just felt. Rage grew within. I could remember, at least I think I do, of the many arguments of Mom and Dad. They'd say it was a couples thing. All married pairs would surface through it. But it was much more. It felt like vigour. 

   "Why? Why me?"

I still don't know why I persist. Why I go on.

  The other day, my loving Mom casually told me, my dear Father never accepted me from the start. He called me a bastard in the womb. My heart cracked, finally the blow it needed to undo its imprisoned isolation. It didn't break. Never allowed.

At least not to show weakness infront of my mother. My eye lids felt heavy. All slowly dispersed 'til I slid into darkness, involuntarily [almost]. I could hear my heart cry out through its responsive beats.

     My phone still in my grasp then slipped to the bed. I played the song that suited my emotion. That voice, those words, like the artiste understood me. It felt mutual as he sang. The songs that'd come after was Helium by Sia, Courage by Celine Dion, and more. These were kinda like the same as I felt. Their rhythms sychronized with my depression.

These were a combination of fear, longing, despair, heart break, etc. Hmph. I needed rest. At least for a little while, the pain wouldn't be unbearable. My body slid into the land of illusions, of dreams with the music as a lullaby. It rocked me softly, those words;

   o/~ I need somebody to hear, somebody to hold, somebody to hug, just to know how it feels

   o/~ It's easy to say but its never the same,

   o/~ I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.....