“Favourite person” is a term which is used in the BPD community to describe an intense bond we can form with a person. They make or break our day. They are the centre of our universe. We are addicted to them. Losing a “favourite person” is one of the worst things I have ever been through. As Polly Scattergood sings in “Remove All Traces”, it is like a candlestick. At first it burns so brightly, then it melts away so quick. In the darkness no one holds your hand no more, and suddenly you’re more alone than you were beforehand.

Never, ever be careless with these kinds of attachments. The pain of losing a favourite person drives people to end their lives.

I have collected some of the best descriptions I’ve read of what it’s like to lose a favourite person:

“A bomb explodes inside me” by Damian Heiden:

“The blast is first in slow motion. The heat melts my internal organs. Shrapnel drills through me and breaks my bones. Pieces of my flesh and skin circles like planets around me. The pain is unbearable.

Then, suddenly all accelerates into the whirl of madness. The noise becomes silence. Blood becomes red dusk. The pieces of me become star dust. The heat becomes ice. I wither away. The pain mutates.

Scattered everywhere. Meaningless. Heartbroken. Crushed. Meaningless.

You were part of me. I was part of you. We were a tree. We became one. We were created in a big bang. All boundaries and differences were gone. We were a cosmos. We were infinity.

Now you’re gone. I can hardly breathe. My pulse is weak. I don’t eat. I don’t drink. I don’t write anymore. I know you won’t be back.

To whom should I dedicate my existence now that you are gone?

“Dropped in the middle of no where” by Nathalie Glass:

“Yes, it hurts soo bad, one feels like they were dropped in the middle of nowhere. Who am I? What do I do? Runs through my mind. The feeling of being lost is unbearable, I feel like I cannot replace that person, I cannot replace that with any other happiness. Nothing else would get me as happy as they did. It feels like the end of the world!!! It’s not exaggerated, it’s how extreme it feels.”

Leila Midnight describes how the trauma is cumulative:

“It feels like a betrayal, painful as if they twisted a knife inside of me. I feel anger and grief. It feels like a funeral.

I keep the FPs that I treasured the most buried inside my heart. Like rotting corpses. They only keep on piling up, and weighing heavily on my soul. They keep haunting me. Creeping up when I open up my heart. When things are good, they crawl out to remind me of the body count, reciting the name on each headstone… and I’m left thrumming with hurt, angre and resentment.

That’s what it feels like.”

“The ride” by Keiko Zeigler-

First, the buildup. (Stage One is fear, not denial)

You know that feeling, right as you hit the drop on a rollercoaster? You can’t feel your insides anymore, every sense is dialed up to 11 and you’re hunting for any escape from the death that’s about to come barreling towards you at, you’re pretty sure, mach 7.

This is what I feel when I think my FP is going to leave.

Second, the reaction. (Bargaining like you’ve never seen)

That “death” hits like a brick wall, and it was definitely going at least mach 2. They ARE leaving, this is not a drill. At this moment, the soul crushing literally existential fear (yes, existential, you’re sure this will kill you) is still driving the bus. In this moment, you will do anything to get them to say they still love you and they’re not leaving.

You are crying real tears because them leaving is basically the same as both of you dying, and you’re begging them not to drive both of you off this cliff. (this is not manipulative, it is obviously not accurate to reality but it is exactly how you feel)

This is where the other commenters stopped. I probably should too, but I won’t.

Third, the aftermath. (Anger is such a small word, or The Split™)

They did it. They left. You told them how it would hurt you, that you couldn’t live, and they did it anyway. They don’t care about you, and they never did. You can feel your insides again, they’re on fire. What a piece of shit. They were always so smug.

The last part should be acceptance, but acceptance of what? Fuck them, you don’t need them and you never did. They never cared anyway. They were always such a terrible person…

Anywho, that’s how the ride ends. For me at least.

Your mileage may vary.

Eryn Seeking talks about losing a part of yourself:

“Like the world is crashing down on us all. This FP is my lifeline, my identity, my perception of life; how can i live without them? Its like asking me to chop off a limb, or worse even- i could live without an arm, but not without my soul.

Truly, all hell breaks loose and every one of my tendencies i try so hard to control will just come rolling out like a freight-train….

And then ill find a new one in a couple hours, probably someone i already have waiting in the background… cuz i already knew my FP was leaving soon. Im always prepared for this.”