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The Nectar of Pain

Page 4

by Najwa Zebian


  my mother.

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  I look back to the day

  that I told you for the

  millionth

  time that I felt that

  you were distant.

  You could have said:

  “I am with you,”

  but you said:

  “Please.

  Stop.

  Obsessing.”

  At that time,

  I did not know that

  your unwillingness to comfort me

  was a sign that I needed to

  walk away.

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  To the past me.

  To my future daughter.

  To you:

  Don’t fall in love with the

  first person who

  tells you that they love you.

  It could be that they fell in love

  with the shape of your hips

  or the colors of your eyes,

  the scent of your skin

  or the journeys that

  the sight of your lips

  takes them on.

  They might not be seeing what you’ve been

  needing

  to be seen about you.

  They might not be hearing

  the voice

  that you’ve been

  needing

  to be heard.

  Just because they’re looking,

  it does not mean that they’re

  truly seeing.

  Just because they’re listening,

  it does not mean that they’re

  truly understanding.

  I wish I knew this back then,

  but how would I know

  this

  if it did not

  happen to me?

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  You tried to tell me that

  the reason I loved you was

  that I had issues with my father’s

  love for me.

  It’s a shame for you

  to belittle my love for you

  like that,

  to say that I loved you

  to compensate for the love

  that I did not get from my

  father.

  I love my father more than oceans

  love the reflection of the sky

  in them.

  My father’s love for me

  has broken the oceans to

  raise me into the woman that

  I am.

  The love of no man

  could fulfil the love

  that you need to give yourself.

  What about those who grew up with

  no father?

  Are they incomplete?

  Please don’t blame

  anyone’s lack of love for you

  for loving the wrong person.

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  It is better to wait years

  for the right love

  than to stay in love

  with someone who does not

  love you

  just so you can say that you are

  in love.

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  You cannot be anyone’s

  savior:

  When you were carrying too many

  mountains

  on your shoulders,

  I told you, “your voice said more than

  your words

  said.”

  Your voice struck thunder in my heart

  more than your words

  explained why you were so down.

  You told me:

  “I thought I was talking.”

  You really did not talk.

  You just wanted me to feel guilty for

  you

  feeling down,

  to continue

  asking you what was

  weighing so heavily on your heart,

  so I could figure out

  and offer to give you

  what you needed

  without you asking for it.

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  The day you confessed your love:

  I waited to see you

  outside.

  And with my heart beating outside

  my chest,

  I said:

  “Can we talk?”

  “Of course,” you said.

  I still cannot

  finish this poem,

  because every time I think back

  to that day,

  I feel like you stabbed my soul

  over and over

  by telling me that you loved me

  when you

  truly

  did not love me.

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  I fell in love with you

  the day you showed me your

  soul.

  And I spent days,

  months,

  and a year and

  part of a year

  realizing that you covered

  your soul again

  because you could not handle

  the love

  that I was touching you

  with.

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  I spent more time getting

  over you

  than I spent

  falling in love with you.

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  If I could turn back

  words

  and speak to you in

  time,

  you would know that my love is

  timeless

  and that years have no power to

  restrain

  the love that my heart

  can give.

  You allowed the years to

  sentence

  your heart to a lifetime of

  no true,

  deep,

  and selfless

  love.

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  The thought of you coming back

  scares the butterflies in my stomach.

  It makes them escape through

  my soul.

  You see,

  I loved the person that you once

  were,

  not the person that you are today.

  I know that if you come back,

  my heart will feel

  guilty

  for not giving you a chance

  at revealing your soul again.

  But

  I know that I will feel

  forced

  to let you back in, as

  you forced me to

  let go of

  you.

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  I hope that you don’t come back,

  but if you do,

  I will tell you this:

  When you let go of me,

  I felt that I could not

  heal

  unless you came back.

  Your resistance taught me

  one of the best lessons

  that I ever learned.

  It is not our

  need

  for someone that

  heals us,

  nor is it our

  want

  for them.

  No person can heal us.

  Only

  love

  can.

  And the same power that created

  humans with hearts

  can create love too.

  You were such a mountain

  when I wanted to get back into

  your life.

  Thank you for forcing me to

  climb the heartache that you put me through

  instead of giving it back to me

  again.

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  I used the bricks that you

  placed on my heart to

  build a home for the

  love

  within me.

  I filled it with love for

  sincerity,

  kindness,

  and honesty.

  So I will force you out,

  and I hope that you will learn the same<
br />
  lessons

  that I learned.

  I hope that you build the same home

  in your soul that I built

  in mine.

  I will help you

  just as you helped me:

  by leaving the door of my heart

  closed

  to you.

  I am not cold,

  nor am I holding a grudge against you.

  I don’t believe in giving people a taste of their

  own medicine.

  But

  perhaps your broken soul

  that is hanging by a thread

  needs to shatter while

  knocking on my door

  so that it can heal.

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  I don’t hate you.

  I simply think it’s impossible to

  hate someone you

  once truly loved.

  But I often find myself wondering

  why you awakened within me the

  feelings that you were not

  willing to continue

  taking care of.

  I never asked you to walk into

  my life.

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  Many times, at

  red lights,

  I ache.

  What hurts more than

  anything

  when I think back to it all

  is how you say that it was all

  in my head.

  “I never laid a hand on you,”

  you say.

  “You talk as if we’ve been

  one

  for a

  decade,”

  you repeat.

  Over and over.

  Let me tell you,

  sir,

  that love that touches the

  soul

  for one moment

  transcends the mysteries of

  love that touches the

  body

  for decades.

  Now that I know

  what I know,

  I am so thankful

  for not allowing your body to

  touch mine

  before I knew that your soul

  truly loved mine.

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  It is our

  story

  that haunts me,

  not wanting you back

  into my life.

  It is not you that I

  cannot get over.

  It is the pain and

  the wounds that keep

  bleeding every time I think of you

  or hear your name.

  It is the scars that I have to hide

  everywhere I go

  that I cannot get over.

  When I think of you,

  I don’t see your face anymore.

  I see a shadow.

  I see pain.

  Yes, I

  see

  pain.

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  I often come back to

  the memories of you

  and the pain of you,

  not because I want to

  be in pain,

  not because I don’t want to

  move on,

  but because they are a

  home

  that welcomes me

  more than my

  reality

  does.

  When you find comfort in

  sadness,

  it means that you need to

  feel it

  and walk it

  gently

  out of your

  soul.

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  I used to say that

  I lost you.

  Then I said that

  you lost me.

  Now I say that

  you were not meant for

  me and

  I was not meant for

  you.

  Thank destiny for

  parting our ways

  before one of our souls

  bled to

  death.

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  Don’t tell me that

  words

  mean nothing with no

  action.

  You only say it when it is

  convenient for

  you.

  We have betrayed our

  words by saying that

  promises mean

  nothing.

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  I have scars on my bones from

  broken promises.

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  You came to me with

  broken wings.

  I helped you heal your

  wounds

  by pouring love into the

  broken pieces of

  your soul.

  You flew away

  when your wings were healed.

  You left me here,

  chained to the ground,

  trying to remove the shards

  that got stuck in my own wings

  as I took them out of yours.

  Where did gratefulness

  go?

  I will not let your deception

  make me not help more

  broken wings out there.

  Your lack of gratitude

  will not make me

  not give.

  I do not give just to

  be thanked.

  But it does not mean that

  it does not hurt.

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  It hurts me that

  someone like you

  hurt a kind soul like mine

  and turned around to say

  that something was wrong

  with me.

  I console myself by

  reminding myself that

  while I am sitting here

  wondering what is wrong with

  me,

  you

  are the one who is

  broken.

  You are the one who needs

  fixing,

  not me.

  Your wings may have healed

  enough to allow you to fly,

  but your soul has not

  healed if it has not learned

  to give.

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  Your heart walked away

  before you did.

  I must have

  overdosed on

  the idea

  of

  you.

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  I loved you the

  right

  kind of love, but

  time

  was not on my side.

  I learned to differentiate between

  loving the right

  way

  and loving the right

  person.

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  When a new opportunity for love

  comes your way,

  do not judge it based on

  what your last partner had that

  the new one

  does not have.

  Do not base it on how thankful

  you are that the new one

  does not have the same

  flaws

  that the old one had that

  you hated.

  Base it not on how much better the

  new person is.

  Base it on who they are.

  Base it on whether their journey

  fits with

  yours.

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  You will keep getting

  let down and

  let go

  by them

  until you realize the importance of

  you holding your soul together,

  until you realize the importance of you

  keeping yourself lifted up.

  You.

  Yourself.

  Without anyone.

  I wish you knew

  how much beauty is within

  your soul.

  You do not

  need

  anyone to l
ove you to

  feel

  that you are worthy

  of being loved.

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  You love those who don’t love you,

  to the point of giving them your soul

  if they needed it.

  But you cannot love your own soul to

  make sure that it is stitched together?

  Isn’t the love that you give them

  a reflection of the love

  that your soul contains?

  So, if they don’t want that love,

  why don’t you give it

  back

  to yourself?

  You become empty when

  all you do is give

  without giving

  your own

  self.

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  The one who deserves you will

  tell you:

  Tell me your fears, and I will

  fight them

  with you.

  Your fears are not bigger than

  us.

  I have fears, too.

  Let’s walk through our fears

  together

  to get to the safety

  that

  our souls

  long for.

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  Thank you for silencing me.

  You led me to break

  the silence of thousands who

  have met humans like you

  who chose not to use their hearts to love,

  to allow their consciences to be just

 

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