The Hurt

After I left from the last time, I sat in my car and wondered if I was doing the right thing. I was going to drive off and leave him, for good. This was it. He had finally pushed me over the edge and I fell. I fell and it hurt so bad. I was crushed, drained, and left for dead. I texted him a final goodbye. And then I drove off.

I was crying but managed to drive home blindly. I parked my car and turned it off but I just sat there. I didn’t want to go inside because I didn’t know exactly how I looked and I didn’t want my parents to know that anything was wrong. I texted my daughter to see if she needed a ride home. There was some event at her high school that she and her boyfriend wanted to see. My phone rang and it was her. She asked if we could give her boyfriend a ride home and I said yes. Good. I needed more time to gather my thoughts.

I pulled up to the curb in front of my daughter’s high school auditorium and they both jumped into the car. I tried to keep up with their small talk but all that rang loud in my mind were the last two hours and all I could feel was this heavy, hurt feeling in my chest. It took so much of my strength to keep myself together but a few tears managed to make their way down my cheek. I figured it was too dark in the car for her to notice so I didn’t wipe them away, plus I thought that would look too obvious and give me away. I think I gave short, quick responses to her questions and comments about the event they had just seen. I really didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and fade away.

After we dropped off her boyfriend, we headed home in silence. I didn’t say a word. I had nothing to say. I started thinking about the very last time I actually seen Omar. It was the night before and he had fallen asleep while I was visiting him. I remember just looking at him and not wanting to leave but I knew I had to. I leaned over him and kissed his face. Oh, how I loved kissing that man. I wonder if he ever felt how much I adored him with every kiss. Each kiss held a feeling and message. I missed you. I want you. I adore you. I don’t want to live without you. I love you so very much. Every kiss…

When we finally got home, I went straight to my room. I changed into my pajamas, turned on the TV, and sat in my bed. Every where I looked, I saw him. The flower he gave me for Valentine’s Day was to my left. The empty package of cough drops was on my dresser. The dying flowers for my birthday were on the right. And every where else I looked was a vision of his face, his eyes. Oh, his eyes. I could even drown in his eyes by just thinking of them. I knew I still loved him, but right then and there, I was so hurt. I cried my pain out. I took a deep breath and let myself cry as hard as I could without being louder than my TV. With every exhale, I tried to push out the heavy, hurt feeling in my chest. I have no words to express how hurt I was. I was so hurt that I prayed to not love him anymore. I prayed for the strength to let him go. I prayed for me to get over him fast. I prayed to not worry about him and to not care about him. It hurt to love him.

Then I heard a familiar sound. It was my phone. I hesitated. It was a text message notification. For a pathetic moment, I thought it might be him, responding to my goodbye. But then I remembered how heartless he was and told myself that it wasn’t him at all. I grabbed my phone and read the message. I was right; it wasn’t him.

Are you okay, mom? It was my daughter.

No baba, I am so heartbroken </3. I cried more.

What happened? I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was cry.

I left Omar. I had to. I think my heart broke again as I sent the message.

Did he do something to you?

Just broke my heart and crushed my feelings. Then silence.

I don’t know how long I sat there crying. I kept telling myself that everyone says that you’ll feel better when you cry it out. But I still felt as hurt as I did when I sitting on the floor in front of his bedroom door. The hurt wasn’t going away and I wasn’t feeling any better. Please God, help me. Let me let him go. Don’t let me look back. Please. How many times can a person die in one night? I swear, it felt like my heart was made of mercury. Every time it shattered, it would come back together, and then break all over again. I kept waiting for it to be over. I wanted to hurry up and feel better already. But I couldn’t stop crying.

Then my door opened. It caught me by surprise because I thought I had locked my door. My daughter came in. I stared at the TV. She put her things on the corner of my bed and then climbed over to sit next to me. Then she leaned over and held me. She held me and whispered that everything was going to be alright. I held her and I couldn’t stop crying. I nodded my head to let her know that I heard her. And then she cried with me. She just held me and cried with me. She had done it once before and I swore that it wouldn’t happen again, yet here we were. Now my heart was breaking for her, for her seeing me this way. I took a deep breath and let her go. I told her I was going to be okay by the morning. I looked at her stuff and saw that she was getting ready to take a shower. I told her to go ahead and take a shower and that I would be alright. She let me go and looked at me. She wiped away a tear and then I started wiping my whole face. I reassured her again that I would be okay and told her to go shower. She slowly got up and gathered her things and left my room.

I cried most of that night. I felt lost and unsure and scared. And somewhere in the mix of all my emotions, I actually missed him. I was angry at myself for missing him. Why would you miss someone who just hurt you? I cried and told myself that someday I wouldn’t miss him anymore. Someday, I will stop thinking about him. Someday, I will stop caring about him. Someday, I will wonder why I loved him so much.