The Habits of my Heart

I could’ve sworn that I’d killed her. I remember placing her limp body, all our keepsakes and memories into a wooden box and burying it all six-feet deep on a deserted planet in a galaxy far, far away. I then remember coming home to sew shut the gaping vortex in my heart, dust myself off and keep moving forward. I actually thought I was free. It’s funny now that I look back on it.

Then her decayed hand broke through the soil for one more taunting wave Hello.


I read somewhere on the internet that it may take just 21 days for your brain to forget love. Dear God if I wasn’t just days away. If I wasn’t just steps away from the finish line before her name popped back up on my phone and drop-kicked me right back to where. I. Fucking. Started.

How can one little thing completely derail weeks of success? How can the pull of one brick completely collapse an entire fucking tower? How could I have spent tedious hours putting myself back together only for you to come tear me back apart in the matter of a few minutes? HOW?!

And the biggest question I have: Why?

Why contact me again? Why come back into my orbit just to drift back away? Just to tell me that you miss me? Just to tell me that you’d thrown away the presents I made you? Just to remind me of how you used to kiss me? Was it just so you could find out what new girl has been sleeping on your side of the bed? Or was it just because you were starting to feel insignificant knowing that I was happily moving on without you? Figured you’d come back, tear open the old scars, and leave a new one to remember you by?

Jesus, I knew I shouldn’t have responded. I knew I’d regret it as soon as I opened the message. But… for whatever rhyme or reason, I can’t see straight with you. No matter how logical I try and be, there’s always a glimmer of hope in me that maybe this won’t unfold into the nightmare I’ve seen so many times. I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking dumb. My heart is always playing tricks on my mind and I’m so fucking weak. Gullible. Nieve. All I do is give in. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, and I can’t stop, though I want so badly to stop, and I don’t want to feel like this but I can’t help it ansfosiwgfawsnfgopiwnjedgoi;ahnwedgioahdahnwdegiowhn


I wasn’t even going to give this girl the satisfaction of yet another post. Wasting my time. But this has been boiling beneath my skin, and I need somewhere to vent before I fucking explode. In the beginning, this post was a lot angrier. Then I spent the day at the pool and kinda let the dust inside me settle.

What’s really silly is that I wouldn’t jump back in a relationship with you if someone paid me to. It’s just that, what you are to me is a constant reminder of everything that could’ve been with us. I seem addicted to the hope that I’ll maybe one day get to see it. But I know that’s just some delusional fantasy. I start winging myself off, but then you come back and it’s like a relapse; I let myself fall back into that fantasy though I know I shouldn’t. Then I feel stupid when I realize you didn’t really want anything. It was just another game.

I need help. Fuck me, I need help. I’m not much of a believer in God, but I do pray with everything for him to please keep this woman away from me. I know she’s reading this but it doesn’t matter how much pain I express—it’s like she’s only drawn to it. Should there be a time when I’m NOT in pain over her, she’ll come put the knife back in me then walk away again. I’m SICK of being heartbroken. I’m SICK of letting her be the one to hurt me. And I’m DONE feeling.

Author Bio

IMG_098824-year-old Jordan Antonacci is one dumb motherf*@#er who needs to learn how to put his heart on a damn leash. That is all.

2 thoughts on “The Habits of my Heart”

  1. I am going through the exact same thing right now, only instead of showing up on my phone, he showed up in my dreams, the bastard 😔

    Liked by 2 people

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