Broken open hearts
From the vault (2019)
Beginnings can be as discombobulating as endings can be heartbreaking.
Sometimes we find ourselves at a beginning. A beginning we can’t quite articulate. A beginning we can’t quite pin down. A beginning that is emerging and evolving.
We can feel this beginning as clearly as we felt and still feel remnants of the ending. An ending we also can’t quite articulate or pin down.
Perhaps there was a shedding. Or a cracking. Or something we can’t find language for.
Mayber there was a tearing down. A deconstruction. Not brick by brick. Not slow. No. It was a massive explosion that left us stunned and dazed in its wake.
It took some time to recover.
To recover from the walls crumbling down. The armor falling off. The ice melting.
It took time to realize.
To realize this wide open, gaping, completely vulnerable heart was not a wound. It didn’t need to be dressed or covered. It didn’t need salve.
No.
This wide open heart needed, still needs air. Sunshine. To breathe. To soak in. To look around. To take steps. To explore. Experiment. Experience.
This wide open heart aches, yes. Oh how it aches. How it may long for the one that broke it open. How it so desperately wants to be sure of things. How it desires to be caught in those arms when it stumbles.
Because it is stumbling.
Like a drunken sailor or perhaps a newborn foal. Or a combination of both.
Yet in this stumbling it is becoming stronger. More stable. More confident. More sure with each step.
This broken open heart knows it can. Knows it can go on this journey. With or without them. (Probably without. Most definitely without.)
These broken open hearts knows the difference between wanting and needing. It thinks it wants those arms, or that smile, or eyes. It doesn’t need them, though. It knows there will be others. Different arms. Different smiles. Different eyes.
These broken open hearts know love. Yes love from the ones who broke them open. But more importantly, love from and for themselves.
These broken open hearts aren’t bleeding. No. They are glowing. They are radiating. They are warmed from within.
Yes there may be longing. Yes there may be an ache. Maybe there always be. Also maybe not (probably not).
And.
There is a knowing, a love. Of life. Of love. Of now. And this is enough.
This piece was originally published on IG in December 2019. It has been edited for re-publication here.
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