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My truth.

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  I've heard, several times, that heartbreak is understood by a pain in the left area of the chest. Overcoming the deception of this theory, I noticed that would be better if it were just a pain in the heart, and not the chaos that it actually was.
   It was a stabbing in my stomach, which turned into a big hole, making all the butterflies, that I collected when he used to talk to me and touch my hand, go away without a warning. They imitated him, to be honest. I also had a peculiar urgency to take a shower, even when I didn't need one. I was just wishing to feel the disappointment being taken away from my body along with water. It makes no sense. My eyes drain the passion, and, in a matter of seconds, I got out of the bed to go to the kitchen, and I thought everything was fine again. It wasn't true, but nobody needed to know, because I was the same on the outside. Inside of me the storm was destroying slowly the beautiful things he had said before, but no one needed to know.
   And nobody knew. Nobody knows how much I cried, with the disaster consuming my body. No one knew that I was so involved that I just don't know how to get back to the surface in time to see the blue sky again. I died drowning in the sea of "almost love", which resulted in nothing. Nobody knew that I died, then, consecutively, nobody saw my change. But that's okay. I won't mention the confusion, the sleepless nights or anything like that because I think that if someone said that when you end a relationship it only hurts the heart, it's because they wanna keep that idea of it.
   Time was kind of my amnesia. It doesn't heal like as an antibiotic would do, but made me forget. I guess we never overcome something that has meant a lot; we just walk away from a routine that represents nothing but the past. And we don't live in the past. We live with ugly expressions, beautiful words and some broken promises. But that's my truth.
   What is yours?
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