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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1071127-Bitter-Tears
Rated: 13+ · Book · Music · #2320172
Short story collection based on the album.
#1071127 added June 25, 2024 at 2:53pm
Restrictions: None
Bitter Tears
The darkness, a relentless force, consumed me entirely, enveloping my heart, clouding my mind, and weighing down my spirit. You were my universe for years, but when you chose to move on, I found myself ensnared in a web of my own making. I contorted and twisted myself to please you, sacrificing my own needs for your happiness. And where did it lead me? It was a one-way ticket to the barren realm of divorce, a place where my heartache reverberated in the empty voids.

There's a profound wisdom in knowing when to let go, acknowledging your losses, and refraining from dwelling in the past. My journey might have taken a different path if I had possessed this understanding back then and had been more in tune with my own needs and boundaries.

Being a product of a fractured home at a tender age molds your vision of the future. In my case, I was captivated by the notion of love, a concept that, to a child's mind, meant fulfilling every whim of my partner, even if it contradicted my own beliefs. This perception was deeply ingrained in my childhood experiences, where I witnessed my parents constantly sacrificing for each other. I saw this as a way to demonstrate my love and prove the depth of my devotion. Little did I know, I was setting myself up for a painful lesson.

Enter the high school sweetheart who everyone adored. You know the type. Captain of the high school football team, most likely to succeed, the one the boys looked up to and wanted to befriend, and the one the girls swooned over because he was such an upstanding guy. No one ventures to guess what goes on behind closed doors, and even if they did, their minds couldn't possibly wrap around the fact that Mr. Nice Guy was an entitled prick all along, hiding his toxic traits under a charming facade.

If there were such a thing as a weakness meter, he had it. Not only did he have it, he also wielded it like a sword, picking the perfect moments to showcase his power over you, or in this case, me, without anyone else being the wiser. For instance, he often belittles my achievements, making me feel inadequate. He also manipulated situations to make me feel guilty, even when I was not at fault. And on the rare instances when tasks weren't perfectly completed to his satisfaction, those were the times when fear would grip my heart so tight that it became difficult to breathe. Those were the times when bitterness and sorrow collided and sent hot tears burning my eyes, yet refusing to fall. I would not give in, nor would I give him the ultimate gratification of knowing he'd broken me.

I spent years holding back my bitter tears, the ones that finally broke free this morning on the heels of the final divorce decree. A wave of relief washed over me, sending those tears down my face in a cascading torrent and wracking my body in uncontrollable shaking as the words' freedom' filtered into my mind. For the first time in a decade, I was truly free, and the world seemed to open up with endless possibilities.

Free to go where I wanted when I wanted, and with whomever I wanted. Yet there's the rub. My friends were long gone, I didn't have a job, and my family moved away long ago. But through it all, two things remained: me and this house that I once loved but now despised. It was time for a new chapter, a new beginning, and I was ready to discover who I truly was outside of this house.

Once the crying had run its course, I stood and looked around. Did I want to stay in this house? Would the memories of dark closets, lists on the refrigerator, neatly stacked books in alphabetical order, and impeccably folded towels and linens be too much?

Traipsing down the hallway, I stood outside the linen closet, brushing away the remnants of the remaining tears. It was now or never. Would I be forever caught in this mindset of perfection, or would I find a balance for my peace of mind?

I opened the door and looked at the rows of white towels sitting next to gray and then a row of blue. Oh, the thoughts of breaking the forbidden rules of mixing with darks with lights. And now, no one was here to stop me or tell me I was doing it wrong or that breaking the rules was a sign of disrespect.

I reached in with a shaking hand, pulled out a blue towel, set it on top of the white, and moved a gray on top of them—another gray and then two more blue. My heart pounded wildly as I stacked towels in a mismatched pattern, my breathing hitched with the knowledge that they were my towels, in my closet, and I could put them away in any order I chose.



WC: 840



Bitter Tears
In the mist
Of my endless search
The best in life
Becomes clear
The rest just begins to fade by itself
That's a trick I learnt, though it took so long
Bitter tears taste so sweet
I'm seein' my way for the first time in years
When the love around begins to suffer
And you can't find love in one, in one another
Push away those bitter tears, bitter tears
And I thought I was doin' no wrong
No wrong
And I thought I was doin' no wrong
No wrong
In the hour
Of your needs
Lips are tremblin' 'cause you're gonna be free
Realize what we're doin' here
The time is right to kill your fears
Bitter tears taste so sweet
I'm seein' my way for the first time in years
When the love around begins to suffer
And you can't find love in one, in one another
Push away those bitter tears, bitter tears
And I thought I was doin' no wrong, wrong, yeah
Hey
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears, yeah
That's what they call doin' no wrong
That's what they call doin' no wrong
Push away those bitter tears, yeah
Push away those bitter tears
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh
Push away, push away those bitter tears
Uh-huh, yeah
Hey
That's what they call doin' no wrong
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