Heartbreak, whether from someone leaving, loss of a loved one, or loving something you can’t have, is the worst pain there is. There’s no comfort for it and no pill we can take to alleviate the pain. We never fully recover from it, and we spend our lives trying to avoid it and walking around scarred from it.
I don’t think we ever heal from heartbreak. When a heart is shattered, and all of the pieces are in a pile on the ground, it takes time and effort to sort through them and rebuild. Brick by brick, course by course, foundation to ceiling. We sloppily fill in the gaps created by our past with a thick layer of mortar. It gets the job done so we can keep moving forward. We learn life all over again and we eventually accept what is. We find a sense of security, but it wouldn’t take much to topple those walls again.
My heart is a fragile combination of pain, strength, and resilience hidden behind my newly reconstructed walls. It wants to love, it wants to trust and protect. It wants to give someone all of itself. But it’s not entirely whole yet… I don’t think it ever will be again, but it’s beating for now, and sometimes that’s all that matters. The mortar is still setting, so I’m tiptoeing gently around to avoid any intrusions on it’s healing. I can’t afford another crack, let alone a collapse.
My heart is somewhat safe right now, and I hope to keep it that way for awhile. As much as I want to find someone to love, someone to give my world to, I’m terrified to open myself up to that kind of heartache. The next time I let someone in will be scary and uncertain, and I have no idea when I will be ready for that. I just hope that when I do, it’ll be with someone that is just as concerned with protecting it’s fragility. And in the meantime, I hope that life will be kind, so I can keep pushing forward, and keep making progress towards complete strength.