“Through a Different Lens”

The burrow of pain shocked my stomach once I heard those words slip out of your mouth.

It left me feeling defeated to know that you may never see me through the lens of romance because casual was your desire all along.

I allowed myself to dream of a life full of flowers, cuddles, cheers, and many more harmonious adventures that I thought were possible for us to share together. I was wrong. Those hopes and wishes shattered and were placed into a room filled with an empty void; a room I no longer wanted to open.

My heart was in disbelief at your expectations of dating culture because they did not align with what my eyes had imagined.

For that reason, my stomach had to release the pillows of butterflies.

For that reason, my voice no longer felt the chains wrapped around it whenever I saw you.

For that reason, I no longer felt the desire to believe that one day a flower could blossom between our hearts; that our paths could intersect instead of always remaining parallel.

I cannot fathom the recoil of pain my heart has undertaken from this. It has left waves of sorrow flooding my eyes, while my thoughts begin connecting every past attempt at finding love and labeling them as failures.

Maybe even seeing you now will become a reminder of another failed attempt in this painful cycle.

I cannot relinquish the amount of sorrow living within me in a single day, so I know I have to break it apart and carry it day by day.

I really thought the possibility of us, the possibility of two, was a chance for my misfortunes in finding the one to finally be over.

But maybe I was given a blessing that remained incognito until the moment it ruptured my spirit of love and romance.

I know I will heal the sorrow within my heart and mind. Unfortunately, I am unsure how long that healing will take.

But most importantly, I wonder:

Will I ever try again?

Will I ever confess my feelings for someone again, knowing they may never see me through the lens of romantic love, but only as a casual embrace?

Will I ever allow the butterflies to return, knowing how painfully they can leave?