Dreaming movies of the First Love.

For the past week, I have been dreaming lengthy dreams that link up and are worthy to be made into movies.

Some scenes were from my past, the days when I was dating First Love. When I wake, my heart feels a dull ache as if someone has pummelled it heartlessly and left me there to die. There were butterflies flitting nervously in my gut, prompted to flee from the fear and strange euphoria from reliving the scenes again.

When I shared it with Hubs, he had brought up a valid point that I had somehow overlooked. One of the issues that I had seeked healing for through Theta Healing was for my lack of self-esteem and self-worth. I had traced it back myself by painfully digging into myself (and my past), but somehow didn’t link it up with the feeling of worthlessness I had felt when First Love had left me without a word.

Sometimes, I wish I was a thick-skinned individual with no sense of shame or sensitivity, then there would probably be no trouble with self-worth. Just like some of the people I know.

For years — a whole decade by now — I had fruitlessly tried to make contact with First Love, to seek closure for the short beautiful relationship that he had thrown away in the blink of an eye. Despite being in the same class for three more years, and being in the same Polytechnic for a year, I never found the courage to step up to him to speak to him again. For fear that he will look through me as I was invisible, and for fear that my heart would hurt once again from his callous actions.

I have now found another cause for the way am I. The First Love who broke my heart and probably doesn’t even know how bad he broke me.

My insides tie up in knots if I even tried to search for him on social networking sites.


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