This piece draws upon an experience that acted as a catalyst for not only my writing, but my life path in general. It pulled me out of a perspective in which I thought I knew the world and myself, but in reality, I didn't. It grabbed me by my feet and dragged me down the hall to another door. It drowned me in the depths of the sea, dispelling the illusions I was caught up in around me. It killed off the old me and everything that went with it.

I have come so far from this experience, it seems almost impossible to place my heart back there, and to remember what it had felt like. For everyone going through something tough right now, take this as hope that it does indeed get better. You eventually shed your oldest scars to the point where they are invisible and painless, if you choose to.

When I was young, I always had this weird feeling that I wouldn't live past 21. I have no idea where it came from, but all I can say is I had that feeling every now and then. 

Several years ago, I was in love. At that moment in time, I was in love to the extent of which I knew love. Through the movies, through books, and through the relationships I perceived around me. I had chosen someone that I felt I wanted to spend the rest of my life with - because that was all I knew. I didn't believe in short-term or casual relationships. I grew up in a family that only knew long-term, fully committed, plan-our-future together type of relationships. 

So I chose, and as I chose, I fell. Little did I know, he did not choose me in the end, which in the grand scheme of life is completely okay, and looking back now, was always meant to happen. But the way in which he chose made all the difference on the impact it had on me. Instead of keeping his promise to stay, he decided to leave. Instead of leaving with a simple explanation, he decided to leave in silence. Instead of leaving in a peaceful silence, he decided to destroy the world I had built with him. He decided to cheat.

In an instant, our future and all the potential happiness was gone.

It was like ripping a flower out of the garden, roots and all, just as it's about to bloom. In an instant, my entire body and mind was screaming in pain. I felt it everywhere, and that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was now having to try everyday to outlive all the memories that were stored inside of me, unwillingly imprisoned to their inevitable triggers.

I remember how every moment of the day seemingly inched by in slow-motion, and my only goal most days was to not break down and cry in front of someone, or in any public place for that matter. I tried to avoid almost any family gathering and hangouts with my friends to avoid being asked or reminded of the pain I was in. The only thing I was able to do in that time was mute the pain for short periods of time. I was an open wound, dripping blood, trying repeatedly to bandage myself back up while also cleaning up the mess that kept coming.

By the time the night would arrive, I was exhausted from the pain, and I'd use the darkness to cover me up like a blanket. The nights were my favourite part of living, because for a brief moment I was in peace. I would completely forget what I had lost while I was asleep. In those two minutes when I would wake up, before my brain would remember this nightmare, I could breathe.

And that's how I knew there was hope to get past this. To get to a place where I felt peace not just for two minutes before the sun rose, but for every goddamn moment of my life.

You see, I believed so much in love. It was (and still is) one of my absolute strongest beliefs in life, and so going through an experience where I lost a raw form of it tore me to pieces. I was right about one thing though; I did die that day, but all the necessary parts of me died. All the critical parts of me that believed in the wrong things, and were leading me away from my true path were killed for good; something I am extremely grateful for till this day. 

It brought me closer to my family, my mom in particular. It forced me to confront who I was at the very core of me and rebuild the person I wanted to be, the way I wanted, without societal influences. I had become aware of what I was chasing, and how I didn't even stop to question the influence this person had on me. And while I absorbed, and later, healed a variety of insecurities since that day, the one most important realization I made was that this single act chosen by him to inflict pain on me was only and absolutely a reflection of him and not me. That was so important for me to learn because I always thought that if I was close-to-perfect for others, they wouldn't want to hurt me in any way. If I was a good person, I would in-turn deserve and meet a good person. It definitely is not as black and white as that, and this was always going to be an experience I was meant to go through, in the exact way it happened.

We all have wounds to heal inside of us, and forgiveness for others and ourselves is the first step to achieve that. And while we continue to search for love, it is worthy to remember that many people don't know how to accept love from others, because they don't accept it within themselves first.