Title: broken

I have loved, I have lost but I have lived and I’m here.
My heart has a few scars but I have done everything in my power to keep it from falling apart.
One day someone will come and remove those scars and not just for a year but forever.
Ever loved someone so much that every waking moment is another thought of them.
I did, my names Rory by the way.
I loved someone so much that I became someone I only imagined being.
He was Zachary; my world until it came tumbling halfway down.
I went to America when I was 19, I studied their for 2 years. The plan was to come back but after meeting him I stayed another two years.
In the end we had to go our separate ways, it was his decision but now, looking back I know I was the only one really trying to keep it alive or at least that’s how it felt.
I never hated or resented him I just hated who he’d become, after leaving he didn’t even look back….not once.
But I knew if it was meant to be, if God wanted us to be together we’d meet again and we’d make it work.
Destiny is faith and without faith there’s nothing.
After he left I was kind of broken up because he wasn’t the only one who’d left my world…many had before him. I’m talking about family members and relations I was deprived of.
i was adamant this wouldn’t be the end of me, I started focusing on my dreams beyond him.
My dream of writing something so amazing that it would touch the soul on the very first page.
My dream of becoming a psychologist was already underway when I came to America.
I knew I had to live and surprisingly I wanted to.
I met him in the Library, he was reading a sports magazine, I was making notes for my latest assignment.
We talked a lot and realised there was more to us meeting that met the eye.
We were together for a nears enough two years, when I told him I had to go back to England he said we would be hurting each other if we stayed together.
I understand why he left, but sometimes I can’t help wondering there’s more to it than what he said.
When I was 22 I started working in a clinic and was surrounded with cases of depression etc.
I thought of him often, but not like that. I thought of him like I thought of my father.
i was a writer by night, I published some of my work in a magazine that I read often.
Marriage wasn’t on my ‘to do’ list and I didn’t think about it much.
After so many years I was finally happy without someone their keeping me alive,
As hard as it was to take in what he said I knew I didn’t deserve to be in this situation.
I healed pretty quickly and when I did I felt a beautiful sense of relief.
Like when your sitting on the beach and a huge wave is threatening to wash all your stuff away and all of a sudden its gone but you were so distracted you didn’t notice.
Sometimes it was as though I was living in a world full of people pretending to be someone they’re not, I was sure I’d never be like them.
And so the story goes on, she’s like all the rest but still her own person because none of us are even remotely like the other.
Our experiences, losses, successes and everything in between life and death make us who we are.