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Holes in My Heart

Growing up traumatized was really hard to deal with, and I still do.

By Renz Lachica-MacasiebPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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When I was 7,

I realized for the first time ever that I can draw and that I wanted to be an architect in the future.

Years later, my mother told me that my father cheated on her and for me as a young kid, I didn’t really know what it meant. When my mom explained it to me—that's where I became curious about my surroundings and experienced what it was to be depressed for the first time. But I had to stay strong for my mother and my younger brother.

When I was 10,

I liked a girl that told me that she also felt the same way towards me. And she told me the she will never leave me and that she will wait for me—and that I thought she’ll help me get through my tormented past.

Months later, she gave up and told me that she couldn’t do it; and that she’s sorry—That’s when I started to become insecure about myself, look down on myself, and then started not to believe in myself. But I stood up and I thought I could do better for the right one.

When I was 17,

I felt love for the first time ever. I fell in love with my best friend in high school. She’s my best friend for almost four to five years. I thought she was got to be the one because I’ve never felt the same love and appreciation that she gave me unlike from the others.

Years later, I started becoming possessive towards her and that I was trying to control her. Even though I didn’t even intend to. I just thought I was being myself and that I was helping our relationship. But it ended up not working out and that I had to let go of her. But I have moved on and still went back and stayed by her side because I am her best friend—and sacrificed my feelings for the better.

And now that I’m about to turn twenty.

What can I do to stop feeling like I am a huge burden?

When will I stop feeling like this?

Where should I begin?

How am I gotta patch the holes in my heart that are already etched from the front and back?

All I can do is to fake it until I make it—for the sake of my love ones.

sad poetry
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