Humans is powered by Vocal creators. You support kayla domingo by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Humans is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

Shattered

“I’ve accepted how broken I am as a person."

The thick cold air hits me hard as my body trembles. I was buried beneath many blankets before my body decided to abruptly sit up. Slowly my head turns to glance over at my clock, and it’s still only a few hours after midnight. With a sigh I slip out of bed, placing my feet into my duck slippers. With each movement I take there is a soft quack! beneath each footstep. Drowsily my body manages to find its way to the kitchen through the dark empty halls of this loft. This happened to become a normal occurrence within my daily routine. Wake up at uncanny hours from dreams of him only to continue on, and start my day in hopes it would get better. It’s only been a week, and somehow I’ve managed to finish some work. Yet still the pit of my stomach drops with each and every thought reminding me of him.

My espresso machine grumbles as it prepares my mug of coffee for the day. As I wait for that to finish, I pick at my chocolate chip muffin as I wait. My body is leaned up against the island counter as my thoughts recall the time he came over. I remember struggling to reach my mug upon the top shelf so he offered to pull it down for me. As he did so, it slipped between his finger tips only to smash on the ground. Just like my fragile heart that he knew was still healing. Several pieces of glass scattered among the ground with no way of being pieced back together. The next time he came over, he had bought me a new mug. If only he could buy me a new heart as well.

The strong taste of coffee hits me hard as I take drink from the mug he gave me. It’s pink with white polka dots. My favourite color is what he chose. Solemnly I make my way towards the living room; a soft cry from my duck slippers with each step taken. I end up seating myself on the couch as I curl up in the corner with my mug, and the TV remote in hand. The position I’m in lets my mind drift back to the times of leaning back into his chest as his hands played with my hair. His lips gently pressing against the side of my cheek. Only fifteen minutes have passed since I woke up, yet here I am crying all over again. My chest aches to have him hold me again.

My morning is spent slaving away at the work I brought home during my week long break. So many things I left unfinished from the past month, all in attempts to make time to be with him. Now all I have is work to completely distract me from whatever numb pain it is that I’m feeling coursing within myself. It’s still yet to be done as my mind drifts often to either him or myself. The words he said that night are vivid in my mind. The way my body shakes at the thought replicates the exact movements that followed after the words he said. My fingers continue to slam even harder at the keys as words continue to pour out of me. I’m not so sure I’m writing about the given project anymore.

I know I am good enough. Tears are swelling at my eyes as I let out a sniffle. Every single one of my imperfections are beautiful in mind. My teeth tug at my bottom lip as the loud keyboard clicks begin to get more aggressive. Without these scars I carry I’d be a whole other person. Though with that comes the fact that I’ve come to terms with myself. I’ve accepted how broken I am as a person. How depressed I truly have come to feel. The tears are rolling down my cheeks as I give in, and pull my knees up to my chest on the seat. My life has been horrible and he could never understand that. Not with his perfectly privileged life that he was blessed to be given. I knew from the start he wouldn’t be able to love me for all that I am. After all, we were two different people despite how many interests we shared. His values just always contradicted whatever mine were.

My fingers find themselves on my phone screen. Everything about him is deleted and forgotten. I need to let go of him. My breaths are short, and I’m crying hard. Quietly I whisper out in my raspy voice, “I love you, Kara.” All because I know the only person who’ll ever truly love me is myself. Times like this are when I wish he hadn’t led me on. If only I knew from the start that he could never be committed to me. Such a broken and boring girl. It’s pitiful but he had to know what specifically he was getting involved with. It’s even more pitiful that he most likely only chose to stay with me because of those reasons. As these passing thoughts go by while every trace of him on my phone is erased. Though still, my mind has the memories etched into my brain as a painful reminder of what could have been.

Nervously my teeth tug at the bottom of my lip as I lean back into my chair. I carefully swing the chair back and forth as I stare at the ceiling, holding back more tears that weren’t shed earlier. He never could express to me why he even liked someone like me. It all adds up now as to why; he never really liked me. At this point my teeth have bitten every single space within my mouth as a habit I could never get rid of. In front of me my computer screen wavers before going into sleep mode. My feet end up taking me down the hall, back into my kitchen to make more coffee. Shortly, a few hours later, sleep finds me and I’m back to the start of my routine all over again.

Surely it isn’t healthy how hung up I am over this boy. My brain knows he wasn’t worth it; for how could I have fallen in love with him in only just the time span of a month. Yet still, I feel my heart ache to be wrapped up in his arms as the TV plays in the background. Though still no amounts of self love can save me from the broken pieces of my heart. No matter how many times I remind myself that I am beautiful, I am a strong independent woman that doesn’t need a man; I still let my broken heart get the best of me. The only way to get through this is to keep pushing through life, and maybe then I’ll be able to let him go. 

The story you’ve read above is a summary of one of the most intense heartbreaks I have ever felt. As a young person it probably doesn’t mean too much to someone like you. It’s understandably clear that my voice may be way too young to speak upon this topic. Though still I feel that I should express how I feel about the topic of heart break anyway. My opinion is not right nor wrong; it is simply how I handle this topic. 

In the span of a month I fell for a boy. He still means something to me now, but we no longer speak. Meeting him was so significant in my life during that time, and I’ve grown so much since then. At the time, I was going through a time where, like most teenagers, I was trying to find myself. Through him I was able to find more. 

Please let yourself fall in love with others and yourself. Lose yourself, and get lost trying to get yourself back. It’s a journey meant to be experienced more than once. There will be many hardships along the way, though in the end, something beautiful will be found from it. 

This was the story of how I was shattered. Though overtime I was able to put the pieces back together to form myself again.