"One day, you will not cry anymore because you will find a partner who will really love you...."
Saying #OneDay is dishonest. It's a lie. One of many you will be told. And, one of many you will learn to tell. People do not want the truth. They want lies. Until a lie becomes inconvenient, then, you will be penalized for it. So, the truth hurts, no matter what. And this...this is the truth:
You may stop crying one day, but if you're really in love, it goes nowhere. That means, if you're like the other loyal mammals outside of our species, you mate for life. In other words, you'll always miss what's missing. People don't often understand, but when they don't, it's because they haven't experienced love in that way.
I can only translate how it feels into words, but the deep sorrow is akin to having a sharp scalpel silently slice across your belly. You may not feel the cut at first, but you can't help but notice your entrails spilling out. Loop after sticky loop of bloody colon. The smell alone is putrid, never mind the look of it. After months of this, the flesh on your belly, still open, begins to develop necrosis, widening to a gaping hole as it does. You can mostly numb yourself to the pain, the look and the stench, yet, every once in a while, you wince.
The pain is bad. Real bad. You can't help but leak water from your eyes every time you feel it. As deep as your love goes is as deeply as you feel the pain. If your love is truly infinite, the pain will be, too. You will call to the heavens to make it stop. You will ask for death to take you home. You will plead with the spirits of your long-dead loved ones, of your angels, for help. And, you will lie.
You will lie when people ask if you are okay. You will lie every time you smile. Your voice lies when it is steady, instead of shaking uncontrollably with your sobs. Your face lies when it is dry and not wet with tears. But your eyes...they never lie. If people really care for you, they will see it. The screaming woman in your pupil. The one who can't stop screaming.
#OneDay is just a fantasy. It does not exist. When you awaken, you cannot go back to sleep. You have reached your #OneDay. And, it does not include kissing the person you love on a white sand beach. It does not include bringing three new lives into the world. It does not include a house in the mountains. #OneDay means that you recognize the pain is as alive as you will ever feel again. Years will pass. It will not change. The only thing that changes is an increased sense of loneliness. Of disconnection. That is what evolution is. You morph into a new creature. You may look similar to your old self, but you are not the same animal anymore.
Evolution happens out of necessity. It is survival. If you are fit, you will survive. But no one should ever, ever take for granted--not for one second--that a person who survives is happy. You are not happy. You have survived. That is all. Helping others learn to do the same can help. For a little while. But at some point, you wonder if you are doing them a disservice. Survival will exhaust you. It drains you. Makes you sad. Tired. You are no longer alive. You live only a half life, a life you live to make other people feel better. Reassured. But you yourself are not really living. It's not possible.
Not possible to feel alive when your guts are hanging out of your body. Not possible to feel alive when the pain is so great, you stop noticing, except when you smile. That's when it hurts. Because, you are dying a little more every day...and no one cares. Not the people you care about. Strangers care more than they do. Otherwise, you're expected to be quiet and behave. Or, frankly, die. But to do so quickly, so as not to burden the people you love further. And, the one person your heart still beats for?
Gone. Alive, but gone. Changed. The soul is the same; it calls to you sometimes. But you begged it to stop because you could not breathe knowing it suffered while you could do no more than watch. A nightmare. To be so trapped in a body that moved but was otherwise, dead. Like a zombie. A destroyer instead of a lover. It's frustrating...to know the soul loves you but the body is disconnected somehow. And though you long to feel that same body near yours again, you are now scared of what you see as essentially a lump of clay. Like a Golem. At the whim of whoever has cast the spell. It will kill you on command, if instructed to do so. Even if the soul inside screams out against it.
How do you live with that??? Knowing you are loved beyond measure, but that, the soul you are attached to is attached to a shell of a man, not the man himself?
And so, you sit. Mostly alone. Mostly in quiet. Your entrails, pushed back inside you, under your shirt, so no one sees or knows. Blood seeps through the fabric sometimes, but it's still easy enough to ignore. Like your tears. Explained away as allergies or dryness from heat, or onions. Until #OneDay, your love magically reappears. He takes your hand in his. Your body feels relief. Your mind feels peace. Your soul sings. And, your heart rejoices. Your bodies come together once again in perfect union. You are on a white sand beach somehow, and you are happy. The happiest you've ever felt. So happy, you don't realize that your own body has stopped breathing....