I don’t know much, but I do know about a woman’s love. It’s selfless. Vast. Unconditional. Boundless. Passionate. Intense. Full. Unyielding. Obsessive, even.
But what I know even better (unfortunately), is a woman’s hurt.
It’s knowing that something is off, but not being able to pinpoint it. Feeling him slowly pull away and knowing it’s just a matter of days, but him saying nothing is wrong. Questioning anything. Noticing everything. Then, fighting with your instincts. It’s him being so distant despite being inside of you. Forehead kisses, so that he doesn’t have to look you in the eye.
A woman’s hurt is watching it all unravel. Having all your speculations confirmed. Wishing you hadn’t given it everything you had just to end up with even less than you started with. Resenting those who said you were crazy for questioning that hair tie, bobby pin, late night text message, funny feeling, or sly smile from “just some girl”.
It’s feeling your stomach drop, your throat tighten, your heart beat faster, eyes burn, and ears get hot as if it’s happened to you. Remembering a pain from years ago as vividly as receiving an “I have to tell you something” text from your girlfriend just yesterday. It’s feeling sad and hating men even though you’re in a happy, healthy relationship with an amazing man.
It’s reaching out to a complete stranger, because when a woman is really hurt. Like, really, really hurt – another woman can feel it too.