Life (as i know it)

Heart

Some things break your heart. Everybody knows it and everybody has tried to put it into words at least once. And all of them, poets, writers, and musicians alike, have failed. There is no way to put into words what it feels like when your heart, your soul, shatters. Just like a crystal ball might if you threw it at concrete. Destroyed. Beyond repair. A busted heart. Nothing compares to that instant when you realize that your reality is crumbling down around you and that the waters are rising and that you don’t know where the drain is. It can happen in an instant. The death of a loved one. A mistake. An accident. A fight.

I feel like we all know what I am talking about. We’ve all been there a few times. We’ve all been in the emotional void. But the truth is, I simply haven’t had that many instances when I have experienced such hopelessness. When I was very, very small I learned about Jesus and that was the first time my heart broke. It tore me apart that a man of absolutely no fault at all had died, had been murdered, so that I would never have to experience the completely deserved pain of my actions. That piece of my heart has never healed and to this day I can feel its ache when I think of my Savior. Ever since that first time every other hurt in my life has been healed my God’s great hands, even if some took time.

I thumbed the piece of folded paper in my hand, the man on the stage speaking in bold  tones about God and the Bible. I honestly cannot remember a word that he said.

I was vastly confused. I’ve never had to deal with an actual fight between friends. I just don’t fight with my friends. I get so close to people. When we fight, we get over it. Quickly and efficiently.

This was not one of those times. I had never been in a fight of this scale. Of this length. Of this depth. To put it simply, it was breaking my heart and I had no idea how to put the pieces back together.

I was confused because I was honestly at a place of loss. I saw no chance of mending what was so I had given it up and let be what had already become. It was one of the most painful conclusions I’d ever had to come to. I was confused because I wasn’t expecting it to work this way.

I’m working on me.

It was like the sunrise after an endless night of screaming and nightmares. Like finding a diamond after sifting through a truckload of black coal. Like warm summer rain pouring out of a gray sky onto a dusty and dry plain.

 The piece of paper in my hand was from a decorative note-taking pad. It had been folded in half and the message on it was written in blue ink.

I’m working on me.

Right there. Plain as day. A type of apology that I have never had to accept before. Of course all had been forgiven a long time ago. I don’t hold grudges and I wasn’t holding one by the time the note made it to my hand. I was just sad that I had no words to put things back together.

Me. No words. I had felt like a fish with no gills or a clock with no hands. Without my words, I become nothing.

I’m working on me.

Exactly the words I needed. Four of them. And now I have a total of five. Maybe one day I’ll have more, like I used to have before. Actual conversations of countless words. But right now it’s just five because the rest of them have been stunted by what I experience. By what learned about myself.

Simply this:

I’m working on me too.

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Not about me and TMC. Just a good friend who I needed to get right with. ;)

Sorry this is another depressing one. I was hoping to upload a happier one, but I haven't written any good ones down in a while.

Anyway, hope it stills sounds nice.

-FlyOn97