break up of a relationship - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Perhaps this breakup is the only way I will rediscover who I am, the me that is purely myself. I had these dreams. I had these amazing technicolour dreams that I need to make into some kind of reality for others... and for me too. Your dreams are so very different and so together everything becomes muted and confused, we morphed into some terrible compromise instead of supporting each other as brilliant and vivid individuals with passion and drive. So now I must go, weave my creative magic into this ether we call the world, and I wish you well even though I will always face forwards, moving onwards.
We are in a war where you offensive and wounding words storm through me, piercing my body like being struck with a sword a thousand times. Your every deed and action feels like an attempt of ambush to end me forever. My tears and my cries are my shield against your savagery and barbarity but still I know that around you I am defenceless and always will be defenceless. You have already attained victory in this one sided war but still your hunger and thirst for blood and torture is insatiable. And that's why this is goodbye forever. I deserve someone warm and affectionate, one who uses words kindly.
In this heartache the sun won't shine, birdsong passes as if the melody can't glide through the air as it once did before. But the truth is, I'd rather forgo comfort than keep a lover who doesn't love. So instead I will let this heartache be as my teacher and the reason to keep seeking one who can hear the playful calling of their own soul. Because I'd rather this relationship broke up than me, either it turns to ashes or I do, because I'd have to have no self respect at all to stay with one who can't see that how wonderful I am.
I left somebody who loved me despite my many, seemingly unforgivable faults. I left somebody out of fear. Fear is an incredibly powerful influence, it is also a disguised demon. The words I spoke were daggers and my actions venom. Combined is was a brutal massacre of a loving heart. Pure and beautiful. Flawed perfection. This Earth holds many beauties, treasures beyond your wildest dreams. But nothing compares to him.
You act is if my love was owed to you, but you give me only apathy. When did you last cry because I was hurt, or come running because you thought I needed help? When did you last listen to the song of my heart regardless of the beat or lyrics? When did you last look at me as if I were amazing and dwell with me, hug me, as if it was so sweet you wished you could stay with me forever. When did you last show me the yearnings of your soul, the raw, vulnerable and beautiful you? Instead you stare at nothing, interact with the meaningless as if it were your holy grail and dismiss anything of importance I have to say - your apathy is killing us both. Learn to hold onto me with fire and passion, my love, or we both loose, that's the way it is.
"Alex, I know you have these ideas about me, and the hurtful part is how fixed they appear, that you accepted them without question and ask me to justify myself. I won't. Replying to the lies drains my brain. These lies sap my energy and kill my spirit. You were supposed to be the one who stood by me forever and instead you are so mentally fragile that you can't believe in me against the smallest of whispers. Only a fool stays in a hurricane, I'm out."
I love you... kinda. Um, I guess what my brain is trying to spit up is... I would love you if you were kinder. It's just that when it comes to our emotional bank account, you take far more than you give. And, well, I'm okay with giving a lot, but you've become so entitled to it that the most I can do is the minimum you'll accept... and even then you bite me often and look down on everything I'm good at. Even now I can see the blame in your eyes, the disgust multiplying at my "failure," anything but face the true reason for your pain. It's straight from the cold-fish-playbook-101... make the victim a villain as fast as possible, often with a simplistic moralistic argument that takes into account none of the emotional capital. You're a relationship-vampire and I'm done being drained.
There was a time I thought my obsession of you was love; it never was. For when people give freely of their love I am not obsessed, why would I be? Do we obsess over clean water when it is plentiful? Or when it is measured, when we fear its removal, fear thirst? So while you took up so much of my brain, it was a sign of ill health, that you took so much more than you gave. It was hard to see that, but it's true. So now I am with one who puts me at ease, who gives as freely as the mountain spring.
To be loved for only my strengths was a torment. For in the struggle to be strong, in the compulsion to be what you admired, there was isolation. I was locked behind a mask, hiding that which you found repellant. Yet in the end, what broke me was your need to feel superior; that deformed ego you cradle as "self" permitted me to be the "wind beneath your wings" and not a bird soaring free. Outshining you was a capital offence. So, thank you for destroying the person who loved you, because now I make different choices. I choose to love one who nurtures. The sexiest quality by far is emotional warmth, nothing else comes close. For then both drop their masks and find togetherness, happiness, serenity.
"The man you were, the one I married, would have kicked your ass all over this God damn room for talking to me like that. You were someone. You were that guy, the one who had the principles and the backbone."
"Sophia, I loved you. How can you be so cold?" Ben kept his eyes steady, resting on her face like they were home, but just briefly, the sorrow already building.
Sophia stayed rooted to the spot, the breeze moving her hair softly away from the cheekbones that had become so much more prominent over the previous weeks. Her features buckled just slightly before she spoke, the only betrayal of her grief. "You say that like it means anything. What is love to you? There was a time I gladly took torture for you, to protect you, remember? Yet you gave me up as soon as there was a threat to yourself. That isn't love, or at least not a version of it I can respect. You broke me, then attacked the pieces, so full of rage that I couldn't function after what you did. There isn't a woman alive that wants a man who would betray her. At point of death you should have said to pull the trigger, that you'd rather die than give me up. It's what I did for you so many times." Sophia's face was paler than Ben ever recalled it being, as if her very blood was shrinking away from his presence, her lips almost ghostly despite the warm sun.
Ben broke his gaze, preferring instead to rest his eyes on the street behind, on any passing car. Then he spoke with the same voice he reserved for uncooperative suspects, "You don't know how it was. You just like to judge me. Have you any idea what I did for you? Any idea at all?" Then he turned back to her, face set like an adversary, eyes cold, muscles tense. Sophia broke a little more inside - the pieces becoming shards. For in that moment she'd seen his inner monster lock onto her, the part of him that made him such a great spy, and she knew love to him was a kind of possession. No possession, no love.
You look at me like a stranger, yet worse. Instead of the fragile soul you loved for so long you see an enemy. Baby, I never sought to hurt you. It's as if all that love became pain, pain became fear and the fear sowed hatred strong enough to break us. Maybe that's the way things go, a strong hate to break a strong love, to erect walls, to protect the self. That can't be us though, it can't be the end to our story. Can we find a fragment of the love we shared? A seed that might grow into a new relationship - a friendship to heal us both. I still see who you are, know the person you were to me. I know you hurt and I'm sorry, truly; yet there has to be a part of you that knows I hurt also. If you can be softer, I can be too - I can take down some of these walls a brick at a time.
To trust where trust was shattered is far from easy, so be patient. This is as new to me as it is to you, a path untrodden, twisting out of sight. Take my hand. Though I don't know the way, I can lead, figure it out just one step at a time. Perhaps the new landscape will be something beautiful, perhaps it'll be what we make it. Maybe things turn out better this way. Come on, love, isn't it time to walk together once more?
Ivan, my love,
The past few days were nothing but fun, but they were only that way because I gave you everything you wanted... and we both know you got everything. Then you destroyed me with your words, found every perceived fault. When I failed to acquiesce you got more angry and became entrenched. You think yourself better than the 'one night stand' guys, and in many ways, you are. But you're in denial. Just like them you are scared of intimacy. You're contradiction, Ivan, is that you want commitment, demand loyalty, need love so desperately but fear the vulnerability it brings... I can't be with someone who'll never trust me enough to let me all the way in, forever sitting on your doorstep.
It is time for me to walk away,
I am not a perfect man but I love you. Given the chance I would be by your side in rain and shine, comfort you when times are tough. Perfect love requires absolute vulnerability, the kind a baby has with their mother. Mila, I have been hurt in ways that left me broken and always a residue remains. I'm not ready to love in that way again. The anger I can work on, you're right, I was out of line. You can choose to take a chance on me or walk away, either way you have a piece of my heart for keeps. You are one of the few people for whom I would go into battle and that will never change, come what may,
All I am is sadness, every other emotion pushed from my being. Where there was the love, the light, the laughter is an aching hollowness. I was honest, truthful and full of more love for you than you can ever understand. I have been soft, kind and gentle - yet apparently all that is negated by being too intelligent. And people wonder why girls hide behind false stupidity. All I am is a girl, why the hell didn't you just see me that way?
My thoughts are a strange ocean to you. Should I speak of them I see the wandering begin in your eyes, your desire to flee the conversation written on your face. You think the churnings of my mind petty words, fluff and never substance. Your thoughts you guard, hardly ever letting an unconsidered word escape your lips - and this you think of as self control. In a way it is, but the effect is to leave me on the outside, rarely granting me a glimpse of where your emotions really lie. I don't know who caused you to hide, or even if it is just in your nature, but I need you to hold that door open more often. Even if you haven't the patience to get to know me, perhaps I could at least know you better.
I invented every excuse for staying. I must admit, and I think you'd agree with me, I got pretty creative over the time. But you kept giving me every reason to leave. And I still tried to ignore them, like a lovesick fool; like a drug addict dying from an overdose. It seemed like it those days.
Even if I died, if I let you kill me, I would still make an apology for you to use.
You should've given me something to hold on, like a fake hope, or a beautiful lie; maybe then things would've gone differently. Maybe you'd have changed and let us grow healthy into something beautiful.
Or maybe I'd have finally let you crush me into a million pieces. Maybe I would've been the broken photograph taken from an obituary.
But for once, you'd say just for once, I listened to you. Not to your lying eyes or your false words. For once I got further and listened to the things that cannot be faked.
You told me with your ways that I should leave you, go far away and never go back. So I gave up on a person for the first time in my life.
And so I left.
Ryan's words fall out of his mouth like vapour but land in my guts as shrapnel. I feel my insides tear, and the blood drain from my face. I would laugh but he's deadly serious. His eyes are cold like I've never seen and his features immobile. He looks like someone about to vomit. He hands back the birthday present I gave him just yesterday and I let it fall as soon as its weight hits my palm. There is the hard sound of metal on wood but neither of us move to pick it up. I am trying to understand the words he's telling me but I can't. He must love me, he has for so many years, and to be honest I think he's the only one that ever has. Then he turns to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets. Before I know what I'm doing I'm standing in his way and we lock eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shakes his head. I can see my pain mirrored in his dark eyes. This smacks of duty. He always said he'd persuade his parents when the time came, I guess they won after all.
Leon was more aware of the pounding of his head than the layer of dehydrated saliva that coated his cracked lips. Once on his feet the room swayed almost causing him to loose balance and he reached out for the wall. His hand slipped along the high sheen paint and he sprawled onto the carpet with a crashing thump. The room swirled before becoming stationary again and he used the bedstead to pull himself to standing. This feeling meant he'd had some fun the night before but somehow it wasn't there in his memory. Perhaps Val had come over, he was always good for a piss up. He smacked his lips and his stomach turned in an unfriendly way. A fry up was probably the last thing it needed but he was going to have one anyway. Perhaps Amelia would cook it for him, she was good at fried eggs and bacon. But first he had the stairs to negotiate. He dug his phone out of his jeans pocket to text her, but there were a surprising number of Facebook posts for him. One click told him breakfast was off...
With each stride her mind became more clear, more resolute, as if the growing physical distance between them had now become an emotional chasm. As the nascent sunlight caressed her skin, promising a new dawn, a new beginning, she entombed her memories of him in thick walled ice. Then, abruptly pausing to close her eyes and take in a deep breath of dewy air, she steeled herself to only think of her future from here on in. A future she would mould, build, direct. Then with each stride after that she felt more in charge, in command of her own mind, body and soul. She was a girl walking into her own destiny, a destiny that lay squarely in her own hands.
In the gloom of the cafe our knees almost touch under the narrow table. I want to whisper to Todd, tell him the bad news gently. He deserves that. But all about us other diners talk ever louder, competing with one another to be heard above their collective din. I have a whole conversation planned, a way to let Todd know I am leaving. He must know it's coming too, I see the hurt welling in his eyes behind that New Year smile. His usual steady gaze flickers from me to the muck on our table, no ours, it is left from the previous customers. I remove my elbows and sit a little straighter. From the corner of my eye I catch a young woman staring at us, her lank mousey hair falling in ribbons about her colour-drained t-shirt. In her hand is a small writing pad and a biro, she's the waitress. Todd orders for us, after all these years he knows exactly what I want before even I do. Perhaps that's why I have to go
"Michael!" I gasp, the betrayed expression on his face making me feel even more guilty, "it's not what it looks like." He stays silent, staring at me, his wide eyes becoming glossy with tears.
"Mikayla, I'm know when I'm not wanted," was all he said before abruptly turning and walking away. I stood there, my mind failing to function, staring after him.
"I think you should fix this." Cameron's voice snaps me out of my frozen state and into motion.
"You're right." With out looking back, I run into the night, running wildly to the place I know by heart.
In the half-light Caleb looks like the shadow he's become. Hunched over the baggage he could be anybody, and in a way I guess he is. I took our bond for granted, and in my naivety I'd thought it unbreakable. But when that bus pulls away it won't only be broken, but shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars. I want to beg, plead, get down on my knees and tell him that his life here has meaning, that our love has meaning, but I know that face. It is the one he wears when his ears are closed and his mind has put up barriers to all new information. So no matter what I say it will only push him further away. So when I walk closer it is with a mask of contentment. I wish him well with the voice that came so naturally before his plan to do great things far away, it sounds like me but it isn't. I'm already in transition to become a person I never wanted to be. The bitterness is rising like bile into my mouth and when he's gone I'll have no reason to swallow it anymore.
"You're kidding, right?" I ask, my voice shaking as his eyes meet mine for the last time.
"No, Kayla, it's over." He slowly turns away, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes.
"I guess it is," I gulp down a sob and try to keep my composure as he walks away. My heart breaks into little tiny pieces; tears of regret blur my vision. I want desperately to call out to him, beg on my knees that it will never happen again. I want to erase my mistakes, start over fresh; but that kiss will forever pain him while we are together. He's right, it is over, and I killed it.
You said you loved me and I took you at your word. You said I was your soul mate and over the years you became part of the bedrock of my personality. Then one sunny day, under a cloudless sky, you announced you were in love with someone else. It would have been kinder to kill me. Now I must be this person filled with a bitterness I can't control. She is to be the other mother of our children, you want them to call her “mommy.” If it wouldn't wound them so badly I'd see you six feet under and walk away without shedding a God damn tear, not one. The girl you met years ago under that apple blossom tree, the one with the big eyes and the bigger heart is now consumed by a hatred she never knew could take root. But here it is. Here we are. I am yesterday's news and she is the new bell of the ball. You hold her around her waist while the kids get their boots on to visit you. All the while I am force to smile and make small talk. The hate doesn't ebb, it multiplies.
Ryan spoke with his head to the dusty ground, “One day you'll hate me.” Claire stopped like she'd taken a bullet to the guts.
“Why would you say such a thing? I love you. I can't live without you.” Ryan raised his eyes to meet hers, so she would know he wasn't messing.
“It's what happens to great love when the expectations are too high. We'll be fine for a while, then the monotony of working life and kids will set in. I won't bring you flowers anymore. I'll forget our anniversary. Your friends will have nicer homes and fancier vacations. I won't be exciting, I'll be boring. Boring because I'm so damn tired.” Claire's face had lost what little colour it had had.
“Damn you, Ryan. That's nothing more than a lousy excuse not to try. Or maybe you just don't love me?!” Her eyes washed with the kind of tears that only come when people break in ways not easily repaired. But when she met his gaze his were just the same. He did love her. So what was all this nonsense about hate?
Lara would cry for her misfortune, the men who treated her so badly, and drink herself into oblivion. Then she'd sober up and choose another man, often one worse than the last. With her big spirit and personality she would hook up with control freaks and be surprised when things went wrong. After either a few weeks or a few years of flying profanities and fists she would again be confused, where had she gone wrong this time? Was it her weight? Her hair? Her wardrobe? How were so many of her plain friends getting married?
When Darius settles before me I smile. "I got new makeup." He peers my way, face resolutely unimpressed.
"Is it a natural look?" He means that he can't see it and so I've wasted time and money - two things he hates. He never sees the before version - as if I'd let him see me unmasked.
"Yeah, I like it that way." I open my eyes wider, keeping the smile. He nods and takes a sip of his coffee, offering no ongoing conversation of his own, so I begin again. "It's Valentines tomorrow, so I've booked a helicopter to take us to a mountain top, there's gonna be a table, great food." I smile, hoping my joke will raise his spirits. Instead he huffs.
"I suppose you expect me to shower you with gifts?"
My heart sinks. No, that isn't what I meant at all. I'd settle for a few extra kisses, a long hug, some scribbled notes of affection. "Maybe we can come back for another coffee tomorrow?"
Darius looks downward briefly and then says, "No, I like to sleep in." I hide the hurt. I knew he hated Valentines. Then I bring up some gossip, something else he hates, but what else is there to do? Drink and stare with nothing to say?
Once I ran through fire for you; now my love for you is ashes. The wind catches it every day, a macabre confetti. All I do is wait for your anger and watch more fly away, cinders that should have been petals in softest pink.
"It's not love because you say it is. It's not love because you are so destroyed at my departure. Attachments can be that strong, but they aren't love. That I loved you meant so much more and those emotions ran so deep for so long. I sacrificed for you, I walked into the storm with nothing but my love, my spirit, my will to protect, only asking for the safety of my children... and you. I said I would go to hell to save everyone, our world, that it sounded like a good deal. You didn't just let me go. You pushed me into it to save yourself. You made me go into that dark night alone so you wouldn't have to, then you wept. That night you heard the spirits call, as did I. You knew the question, as did I. I thought you were brave, like fairytale knights, instead you were the snivelling coward cradling his weakness as if it were a shield.
In the years that followed it was proven to you more than once, what we were up against, what was at stake, that far from being crazy I was right. Recall the songs old lover, "Feed the world," and "Nothing's going to change my world," they played that day right after I told you to listen to the songs in the cafe. Positive vs negative, light vs dark. One urge for positive change, the other morbidly for the status quo. It was then I told you of God, that the only way out was love. I said we had a chance, that I was finding the way for us.
I told you of the linguistic programming that is our reality, that it really is spoken. Everyone has their own path made just for them, their own beautiful puzzle with clues only they would understand - proof that they are part of the creator's plan for heaven on earth. And still you hurt me, manipulated with lies, became a dark version of the man I once knew. Just know it didn't have to be this way, I would have saved you at any time had you shown true love and self-sacrifice. Now it is too late, I can only save those it is possible to share a bond of love with. If only. If only. If only...
With each whispered word... a piece of my heart broke. Then he walked away, my happiness in his pocket. No longer was I on my feet, instead curled to the damp concrete, my mind devoid of the light he'd given. My thoughts fell into an endlessly repeating loop, "Why? Why leave? Why? Why leave?"
Because it was gravity that started it in the beginning after all, wasn’t it? Pulling her towards him like they were the only two things in the cosmos. Floating. Existing. Tugging each other closer and stealing matter from one another without even realizing it; two stars becoming self-destructive. And, over the course of time, like all stars do in the end, Blake began to change. Her core ignited and expanded as she clung to Nathan in some, vain hope of staying anchored as their supernova detonated. An explosion beginning subtly.
"Are you the man I thought of marrying? Are you, Josh Gables, the man I fell in love with?" Josh stays quiet. "I must've hit my head, for you're nothing more than a fool!" I exclaimed as I turned my back and stormed off. I felt Josh's hand trail across my shoulder. "Let go of me!" Tears streamed down my face like a ripple in a lake. Josh was a sweet, kind man when I met him. I don't know what had climbed inside him, and turned him mad.
I knew things were over despite how much he apologized. I forgave him because I did really love him but his words and his anger cut too deep that I couldn't change the image of him. I saw him for the first time in a way that made me realized we just didn't fit.
I know I should leave him alone to lick his wounds and move on, it's the most humane thing to do. We broke up, it doesn't to be more than that.
I know that I am ready to move on, perhaps if I just abandon him that maybe he will too.
Sometimes, you replay the events in your head and wonder what was the right words to say. You never felt so alone and yet only one person can cure the empty feeling in your heart. You want to cry in frustration because you know you are all to blame. So you listen to the sad songs and cry to the ones that touch too close to the truth.
Your eyes need a break, and you feel dehydrated anyway so you can't even cry anymore which is more frustrating because it feels like something is being taken from you. The ability to express the hurt you feel deep inside.
Sometimes, the attachment surprises you especially when you think you're ready to move on. But you're brought down to the lowest part of yourself that your mind can bring. I need him. I don't want to be without him.