Crushed

I'm so upset that I find it difficult to form thoughts into words. Thoughts are racing nearly as fast as my heart and I'm still stirring from a "conversation" that took place hours ago. I cannot seem to understand how anyone can spew such hateful words without feeling the slightest bit of remorse. Someone, somewhere along the way, must have broken you into thousands of tiny pieces(much like you did to me tonight).

You are the man that seemingly has everything; fame, fortune, a nice house and expensive cars. You've got friends that would kill for you and fans that bow at your feet. With this comes a flood of girls that will suck you off, fuck you and fulfill your every desire in some sick attempt to get closer to fame. They want a piece of your fifteen minutes, they want a story to tell their friends, and they want to live like they're in the tabloids. They're not really after you, they're after the fantasy. They likely have yet to be screamed at by you. They probably haven't put up with your over dramatic and childish behavior. They haven't stood by your side, and I can guarantee you that if everything you had slipped away tomorrow.... more than 80% of them would lose interest. That's not saying that you don't have anything to offer, it's simply based on the fact that the majority of your groupie girls are desperate, fame-hungry whores. They'll do anything (and anyone) that might make them feel closer to the limelight they would never see otherwise.

I never meant to fall for you. In fact, I spent quite a while trying to deny that I was doing so. Sometimes I would get this rare glimpse into the person you could be, a fleeting moment of the brilliant man that hid beneath the temper and cynicism. At some point, I thought I saw a heart and I spent every moment from then on trying to make it surface again. When you let your guard down, you're one of the most genuinely amazing people that I've ever come in contact with. When you get a little jealous, when you pushed the hair from my face so you could "see my eyes", when you gave me advice and got me through hard times....you were incredible. That man was the man that dreams are made of. Unfortunately, his cameos were few and far between.

I saved my virginity for a very long time in hopes that I would meet the right man who deserved it. Buying me a plane ticket doesn't constitute as "deserving", it's merely an act. A generous act, but an act nonetheless. You may not understand this, but listen very closely: I'm a lady. I'm not the rest of the girls you know. I'm not a whore, a groupie, a fan or some girl with low esteem that will sleep with you in some pathetic attempt to feel better about herself. If anything, I hated myself for sleeping with you. On one hand, I was glad that I gave it up to you because I was wholeheartedly in love. It seemed like the right thing do. On the other hand, I hated myself for allowing you to think that I was just some girl you could fuck one night and throw away the next. I'm not your joke. I'm not the talk of your town. I'm not a story you tell. I'm a lady, and I deserve respect. Perhaps it's my fault for never demanding it from you, but I thought it was a given.

You say that you want a woman with her own opinions, one that can speak freely and stand strong in her beliefs. Why don't you just tell the truth? You want a girl that will never admit when you're being an asshole. You want someone naive enough to let you walk all over them, even when they have the best intentions. You want someone to praise you because you are so insecure that you need constant reassurance; you need someone validating your self worth at all times.

Who was it that broke you so badly? That crushed you and made you so heartless, ruining you for every honest girl to come? We all have our trust issues and we're all guarded to some extent, but you....you're a brick wall. That heart of yours is locked away so tightly that no one will ever get a fair shot to make you happy.

Happiness isn't your money, it isn't your BMWs or your house on the lake. It's not even hanging out with your best friends and having the time of your life. Happiness is loving yourself, allowing others to love you and being capable of reciprocating such a thing. And love, love is not a weapon. It's not something you use against those that care for you with all their hearts. I know you knew, the moment I got off that plane and looked into your eyes, that I was there for all the right reasons. You can have all the doubts about me that you'd like, but you're not the one with this heart in your chest. When I had sex with you, it was because I thought you were the right guy. And when I told I loved you, I meant it with everything in me.

No amount of blogging, Twitter posts or writing songs can ever fully describe the way you've crushed me. You didn't just break my heart; you broke my spirit. For the first time in my life, I believed in love. For the first time, I realized I was capable of loving someone wholeheartedly, and you took that away just as quickly as you made me fall. But you know what? I'm not going to let you ruin me for someone else. I'm not going to let you break me. I'm not going to fall apart. I'm going to pick myself up and power through it like the strong and determined woman that I am. I'm going to smile and laugh knowing that you discarded something so wonderful. I'm going to do what I was born to do, and I'm going to love every moment of it. When I reach the top, I'm going to thank you for fueling the fire.

You can't fool me. You're not half as confident as you would like the world to believe you are. You are a fragile and wounded bird, and I'm tired of trying to fix you with popsicle sticks. If you stumble upon this, I want you to know that none of this is coming from a bitter or angry place; it's written from the heart. I want you to know that a part of me will always love you. I want you to remember that side of you, the brilliant man with the heart, and I want you to make that side show more often. I want you to find love and happiness, even if you can't find it in me. Because THAT'S what love is.

I'm setting you free, but this time I'm not holding out hopes that you'll return. Fly on with your wounded wings until you find what it was you were looking for.

As for me, I'm going to mourn the loss for a while and hope that someday, somehow, this pain will go away.

XoXo