To My Broken Heart.
There is very little that you care to hear right now.
You are like a child having a tantrum laser focused on the one and only thing that will soothe you.
Any other offering is an agitation and nothing more than a bitter reminder of what it is not.
All you want to hear is that there was some mistake.
That it didn’t happen.
That it is just a dream or a nightmare.
I wish I could give you that.
But nothing short of a time machine can un break you.
There is a lot of information directed at you.
Information designed to help you heal faster.
Maybe this was some sort of a blessing.
Maybe it was meant to be for a lesson to be learnt.
Infinite derivatives of that.
It is like bandaids to an amputation.
It is impotent and ridiculous.
The brain and the heart are separate entities.
The words may fit snuggly in the psyche but it can’t heal a broken heart any more than it can heal a broken leg.
Only time may heal a broken heart.
The words are trying to define something that needs no defining.
It is trying to morph what is concrete into something complex and abstract.
There is no point.
It is simple.
It fell and broke.
It is of no consequence why and how the break occurred.
What does it matter if it was pushed maliciously or inadvertently.
Or if it wasn’t pushed at all.
If it jumped.
If it slipped.
If it was careless.
If it tripped over something or itself.
The only fact is that you are wounded, worn, plain and Tired.
I know you would like to stomp your feet, scream and lash out.
But it would do exactly nothing to dull your pain.
You need a refuge.
A quiet place to rest where you can take a break from the frustration of trying futilely to heal.
You are tired from the yearning and the pining for something that does not exist.
The straining towards a light that you can not reach and the inevitable ricochet that snaps you right back again and again into the darkness of waiting.
No pleading, pulling, screaming or wailing can reach time.
It comes when it is ready.
It will find you.
For now you are floating in an infinite ocean.
You can’t yet see the shoreline.
There is no forward and no backward.
This vastness and nothingness is all there is for now.
Some days you will float into another sad heart, similarly broken.
There are tons around the world.
Floating in the nowhere.
And you can whenever you like float next to each other and visit.
But it doesn’t need saving.
And neither do you.
You can sit with this, you can endure this and you can survive this.
You already are.
You are unhinged and unraveled as a raw nerve.
And you are breathing and floating.
You are not drowning.
Eventually the horizon will unfold and softly reveal itself.
The tide will bring you back to me and I will meet you back here.
Back in your vessel, your body and your home.
We will then have another sail, another love, another fall and another break.
And we will heal again and again.
~ Tomorrow ~