Heartache is no Joke.

I’ve realized recently that it isn’t socially acceptable to be heartbroken. People seem to forget about the pain of heartbreak until they are in position themselves. They look down onto you, expecting you to be okay within that very second. They just don’t understand that sometimes “You have to get over it” is just not a logical thing to say. “Getting over it” makes no sense in that moment. “Getting over it” seems damn near impossible. Yet, when you explain that, 9 times out of 10, all you receive is either silence or the classic: “I don’t know what to tell you. All things get better with time.”

What people seem to forget is that heartbreak is a physical pain much like hunger. When you go too long without eating, your stomach starts to have this constant growl and ache. Sometimes it’s easy to ignore, yet at other times you absolutely have to put food into your body otherwise it feels like your stomach is starting to digest itself. Unfortunately, with heartbreak, you can’t just sit down and eat a gallon of ice cream and magically feel better like people expect you to.
I’m not sitting here saying that I wish people could understand what I’m going through, and I’m also not saying that a single person has ever felt this way before. We’ve all had our hearts broken. Some of us with breakups, some with death, and some with a different kind of loss. However, once time passes and the aching slowly goes away, it’s almost like we forget what it feels like to be in mourning. Is it weird of me to say that I never want to forget this feeling?

I’m sure that most people are going to find that very confusing. Why on earth would I want to remember this pain? Honestly, there are a few reasons. The first one is simply because as human beings, we are here to embrace the life that has been given to us. We are here to live, breathe, thrive and feel everything. That might sound pretty “hippie” of me, but this new way of thinking has helped me move on with the recovery process of every ounce of pain I feel.

The second reason is a little more personal, and I will try to not bore you with the gory details. The reason why I lost my previous love is because the timing of our relationship could not have been worse. Between my severe anxiety and depression disorders, there were also issues lying deep in my being that I would have never confronted if I hadn’t been to therapy recently. Because of these things, to say that I treated my fiance badly is an understatement. I treated him terribly. When I look back, I can’t help but think “Damn. He held on so much longer than I ever would have.” Constantly fighting, constantly making him question his self worth, constantly leaving him, and more things that I personally don’t want to have plastered all over the internet, but obviously he should have left me long before he did. All the time that I’m treating him this way, I had no idea that I was as unstable as I truly was. I really had no idea just how far down the hole I had fallen. The pain of this heartbreak will always serve as a reminder to never lose myself again. The guilt that I feel for pulling him into my life when I was so clearly unstable is crippling. If I could go back in time to the day that I met him, I would turn the other cheek and never have talked to him, simply because how I treated him was so badly. But, while talking to one of my friends about feeling this way, they said something to me that really helped me get through a pretty bad time. “Being unstable doesn’t make you ‘the bad guy’, it makes you young.”

I constantly find myself trying to figure out my entire life instead of just letting it pan out the way it’s supposed to. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and I’m also the type of person who needs an answer for everything. Why did it happen this way? Why did they ever walk into my life? Why did I fall in love with him the second that I met him if it wasn’t meant to be? Life is unfair. Because I fell in love with my ex-fiance the second that I laid eyes on him in high school, I was absolutely sure that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. That’s the only outcome that made sense. I’ve started to realize that sitting here and questioning why it happened and why it failed, I should just be glad that because of this relationship, I realized that I needed to reach out to someone for help. I shouldn’t sit here and be distraught over something that I cannot change, but be thankful for the good times that we had together. Life is funny sometimes, and things always have a way of playing out better than you could ever imagine them to. Holding onto the light, and surrounding yourself with those who fill your heart with love are the only things that you can do to get through the hard times.

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Growing Up is Hard to do.

I was babysitting my 4-year-old niece last Saturday night for my sister and her fiance while they went out to eat with their friends to celebrate someone’s 50th birthday. When I first got to their house my niece was excited to spend time with me, and her little mouth was running 1,000 miles per second. “Hey Savannah, I have Frozen karaoke that we can sing. We can sit here and play with princesses, we can watch Frozen, and sing together, and pet the bunny, and play in the playhouse…” and so on and so forth until her mommy and daddy finally made it out the door.

3 karaoke songs and some intense bunny rabbit cuddling later, we found ourselves cuddled up on the chair watching TV and talking. She asked me when her mommy and daddy would be home and I told her that it wouldn’t be too much longer before they were there. She then asked me if she would be able to live with them forever. I just smiled at her and tried to explain to┬áher that one day she would be a big grown up, and she wouldn’t want to live with them. She looked puzzled for a minute until she finally looked up at me and said “I don’t want to grow up, Savannah.”

Shortly after that, we both fell asleep in the chair until her parents got home.

I’ve never thought that something a 4-year-old could say to me would ever hit me so hard. At that age, we are so dependent on our families. We know nothing else. All we know is that when we need something, mommy and daddy are there for you and they will do whatever it takes to make us smile and be content. Then, as you get older, the resentment comes. You’re suddenly a 12-year-old girl and everything your parents do instantly becomes repulsive and embarrassing. You dream of being an adult and living by yourself and having a husband of your own. You even play house with your friends and pretend that you’re a mommy and you have a job and a car. At that age, being an adult is so glamorous, and it’s all that you are waiting for.

Finally one day, it’s your high school graduation. That joyous day when you walk across that stage to shake your principle’s hand and realize that you will never have to set foot in another school again unless you really wanted to. You are surrounded by your graduating class one last time, and you don’t really realize that you will never see 90% of the faces you’ve seen every day for the last 4 years ever again. For me, that wasn’t so bad of a realization. I was never the most social person in the world, and the people that were close to me were the only ones that I wanted/needed. You all get your diplomas and you throw your ugly graduation hats up in the air, and then you walk out of the ceremony, say your final goodbyes to everyone, snap a few pictures, go home, and then you’re suddenly the adult that you have wanted to be for so long.

The following summer for me was a stressful one. I had a few short months to pack everything I owned into boxes and prepare myself to move halfway across the country to go to a school that I wasn’t particularly ready to be a part of. Which is why I didn’t even make it through a full year there before I came home to my parents, moved back in with them, got a job, and saved up for an apartment in my hometown.

In the process of saving for my apartment and finally moving in, a started a relationship with my high school crush. We met my freshman year and from the day that I saw his face, I knew that there was something special about him. However, our relationship has been anything but easy. Being a military girlfriend is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, not to mention the fact that I constantly question whether or not I am ready for what we have, which leads to many problems. To me, that doesn’t mean that I don’t love him, it just shows that I’m not as mature as I thought I was. I’m not the adult that I thought I was.

Growing up and becoming an adult is the hardest thing that anyone will face. All of those years and all of that yearning to get out of your parents house finally catches up to you to the point where you want nothing more than to be that 4-year-old little girl saying she never wants to leave her parents house. Wanting to be a little kid again where the only thing you have to worry about is the fact that your mom made you a grilled cheese instead of a peanut butter and jelly. Being so young and innocent and still believing that if you’re a good girl or boy Santa Claus will come to your house on Christmas Eve and eat the homemade cookies you left out for him and leave you absolutely everything you asked for when you got to meet him at the shopping mall.

Life is a never-ending cycle and it’s most certainly not a simple one. I guess what I’m saying is, my name is Savannah, and I want to be a little kid again.