So here I go again writing about how my heart being broken was some kind of blessed lesson. How this is what I was made for as though im some kind of super hero and heartbreak is my fuel . It happens every time. I become irrevocably attached to people. I become someone else’s and lose interest in myself and in the world. I get tunnel vision but there is no light at the end, only a single person. It’s a desperate plea for love and a jarring fear that it is not there and never will be. That I will have to go through this insufferable pain again. Every time is harder and worse. Before the power of the pain materializes into fuel. There isn’t one thing that gets me here and starts me writing again, sewing my super hero heartbreak cape, or thinking normal thoughts. It just happens eventually, after endless nights of self-torture and constant re-evaluation of everything. Everything must be torn apart before I can rebuild it. Even now, as I write this epitaph of rebirth, I know this is only the first step of many. Tonight I will probably crumble again. But right now, for the first time, I don’t want to or feel like I have to. And that’s a big deal. I don’t want to be in love with places and things forever. I want to find a person who I can love and can love me. but for now I have a whole new city and world to fall in love with and passions to explore. This is New York City bitch.and everyone is different. i should get a cape.