Avenue of broken hearts
An ugly fall from a tree, almost getting hit by a car, a fight on the street at three in the morning - yes, cats have nine lives. Only the human heart, stepped over a thousand times, but it is still beating at the end of the day, can be compared to them.
The biggest and worst heartbreaks, in my opinion, happen during adolescence. According to what is written in my diary, I experienced the first one in elementary school, when I fell head over heels in love with a withered headbanger who became my classmate in fifth grade. This was the period when messages hidden in a crumpled note were traveling during class, the period when all the back pages of the notebook were covered in hearts and flowers. Back then, one smile was enough to make my heart melt, and one look at the other girl was enough for my heart to break.
I wanted to be the protagonist of a great romantic story, Sleeping Beauty, Titanic, even if the ending seemed miserable. I wanted trouble, suffering, everything, just to make it to the happy end. The opposite happened. It was good at first but followed by problems and unbearable suffering.
After an unrequited love affair with the bad boy, I had some short relationships with guys I didn't like too much. I think I had them because I liked the feeling that someone wanted you, that this was the first step into adulthood. These meetings ended with me stopping answering the phone or with them saying: "We are too young, maybe in a few years." At the time, I believed we would really meet again in a few years. But the years went by, infatuations came and went, and the memory faded more and more with each day.
The first relationship with severe consequences I experienced in the second year of high school. That's when my world collapsed. I had a hard time fitting into my boyfriend's circle of friends - the company of scouts. Indeed, I may not have even given them the right opportunity, but they were always there. As if I was going out with all the scouts from the region. When we broke up, the first cut was made in the heart. As we met in the hallways and in the coffee bar during breaks, the notch deepened more. Knowing where he was going home, I turned into a psychopathic stalker for a short time. Good thing I had a dog, and the walk was my excuse. But with time, I started walking in the opposite way, and a few weeks later, a smile returned to my face. It was time for new adventures.
The next one came soon after, but the boy was more eccentric. The relationship lasted a whole year and a few months longer than the previous one. Everything seemed to be like it should. My parents adored him, my friends were happy to have him around, and I was dying every time I saw him. But I was also able to ruin this one too. The period of falling in love has passed, and everything has started to bother me. His savagery was beginning to get annoying because I was far from it. He was able to get on the train and disappear for a month without a phone. Not even the CIA could find him nor reach him. I was overwhelmed with worry, and I also knew that I would not be able to cope with it. I play safe; I don't take risks. I am a woman who books a plane ticket six months in advance and has the whole trip planned in her mind. We went separate ways after almost two years for this and other reasons.
This time I took it worse than the first time. If there was a notch back then, the heart has finally have broken into pieces. I was not able to leave my room for two weeks. I didn't even go to school. I stared at the phone for two weeks, and the bed became my best friend; I even ate in it. After that period, I had to get back on track and get on with my life, but I was like a zombie for the next eight months. It hit me so hard that I didn't want to have a relationship. In that period, I got to know the world of toys.
All later relationships were calmer, but always with a bad ending. I am still single today but in good company. My heart has healed, and I still have some lives left. At least, I think so.