When I was younger,
I guess I used to be that silly little girl,
With her heart on her sleeve.
I was just twelve when my heart broke for the first time,
It was simple, really:
I was his,
But he wasn't mine.
And I was a mess,
Too young and so wrecked,
But it was you and not him who taught me the new meaning of 'heartless'.
Would you go up to a kid,
And rip a bandaid off his knee?
Would you tell a motherless child
It was her fault her mama died?
How can you say 'Get over it',
When you know nothing about it,
Heartbreak is not a crime,
I could have gotten better in my own time.
Then I got older,
But I guess I didn't get any wiser,
Because I still left my heart on my sleeve.
I was thirteen when it happened again,
I don't know what was worse,
The humiliation,
Or the pain.
And so I was a mess,
Too young and so wrecked,
But it was you and not him who taught me the new meaning of 'heartless'.
Would you go up to a kid,
And rip a bandaid off his knee?
Would you tell a motherless child
It was her fault her mama died?
How can you say 'Get over it',
When you know nothing about it,
Heartbreak is not a crime,
I could have gotten better in my own time.
Two years on now,
Still hurt now,
Even though it wasn't really so bad.
I think you took a little problem,
And made it enormous,
A little patience on your side
Would have been appreciated.
It's hard for a wound to heal,
When you kept ripping of the bandage.
It's hard to take the pain,
When you took away all the aspirin.
So don't blame me if I get scars,
Because I think I got the cut dirty,
And it's to you as much as to him I say 'Why?'
I could have done without the laughing,
I know you could have done without the crying,
I know you're right, they were never worth it,
But heartbreak is not a crime,
And I could have gotten better in my own time.
And so it's to you I get to thank for still being kind of broken;
Do you know how pointless it is to say 'just get over it'?
I wasn't planning to waste my life over losers but
Heartbreak is not a crime,
I could have gotten better in my own time.
4 comments:
I'm guessing you wrote this?
Yeah, I did. I guess I kind of got sick of people telling me to get over things when really, they're the reason why I'm not over it.
Tell me about it.
The new meaning of heartbreak (which is a very very old one but when we are feeling it, it's as if for the first time).
Those two questions: "Would you rip off a kid's bandaid? Would you tell them their mother dying was their fault?"
They might, consciously, answer "No" to these questions. "I would never ever do such a thing!"
There are people who get off on telling people those things and then laugh about it as if it were a big joke in some cosmic universal game.
I know it probably isn't overly helpful.
Two years is probably too soon to recover from it, especially when your abusers are still there (in some form or another).
And, yes, your wound imagery is very familiar! I remember using it myself.
The next verse is very powerful. I'll quote those two verses.
"It's hard for a wound to heal,
When you kept ripping of the bandage.
It's hard to take the pain,
When you took away all the aspirin.
So don't blame me if I get scars,
Because I think I got the cut dirty,
And it's to you as much as to him I say 'Why?'
I could have done without the laughing,
I know you could have done without the crying,
I know you're right, they were never worth it,
But heartbreak is not a crime,
And I could have gotten better in my own time."
Could have, and still can.
Having said that the "what was worse? The humiliation/or the pain". Humilation causes pain and pain makes you reflect on humiliation. It's a cycle!
(And In my own time is also a Delta Goodrem song, about taking time out to smell the roses and being hurt).
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