Hearts break slowly…at least mine always has…
It’s never been a one crash impact shatter.…it begins with a
twinge, I’m able to shake off a little by doing something or doing nothing…
then it becomes more constant, harsher… a dictator
seeking control…
I pull up the boot strings of its pounding and straighten
that sucker right up…
BUT...
no end there…ii plans its un-defeating sneak attack…often
cowardly in the dark. Sometimes I awaken to its screams or whines and whimpers. It
does not sleep…it is too busy for sleep....breaking is busy business....
It draws in all it can:
the negative words etched in my brain neatly placed there by past lovers, well-meaning
loved ones, preachy friends and worst of all the reflection in the mirror,
store window or lake of lost dreams;
it echoes the past
losses and harsh words my covered ears have heard;
it draws from pools of stinging tears cried long ago
that just refuse to dry up or wash away;
it soaks up the last drop of moisture from a parched dry
mouth, leaving only the rancid taste of humble pie and decades upon decades of words my thick
tongue has bitterly tasted that were spewed in pain and anger at me and from me;
it magnifies the musty smell where one once stood breaking
promises and whispering lies;
it forces the
coldness of the empty space between my fingers as I hold tight to nothingness…
then there it is…
in pieces shaking wildly and silently and more profoundly
than the best sci-fi “thing” crawling through the room –
I am frozen. While others gasp in horror and run from its
ugliness and pain, I run after it –- to it. I mean, after all, it is MY heart...
I grab it with one hand, dropping
pieces and retrieving, dropping pieces and retrieving --
It seems for an eternity, I search. With splintering
pieces in my right hand, I search for Permabond with my left -- or are the
pieces in the left as I search with the right?
I remain confused and calmly-shaken,
partly because I saw it coming and partly because this is not its first blank
dance-card.
I strive to recall exactly how its puzzle goes…some pieces
seem too small and undistinguishable with no defined jagged edges.
I search for jagged edges. Some are merely dust.
How do you
put dust back together? I ponder this in unison with the silence. The room is now empty. The world is empty. The apocalypse
of pain and brokenness has come to my abode. Moved in, it seems, with no
forwarding address.
THEN – THEN – I REMEMBER what I said the day I said it, “Girl,
lose the glue….stop the analysis of the pieces and let them go”. I coined the phrase by accident to a surprised mirror, a morning such as this, while I was seeking the sun
before it missed me.
Healing comes, not self-inflicted --
It heals itself, IF I let it….The sun comes up in the morning or the rain streams down my rainbow window at dawn…no matter, it comes. Morning comes. Morning comes while it hurts and heals and I just simply love it.
I love it through its pain and brokenness….
Though, yes, it breaks slowly…with love and grace, patience
and understanding, it heals stronger than it was a fortnight ago….wiser than days
gone by.
I love my heart….and it loves meJ
Blessing my heart....
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