Healing a broken heart is never easy. Especially when the one breaking your heart is not the one you expected to do the breaking.
Yes, broken hearts are tricky things. Just when you think you seal one crack, another appears. Maybe it’s a different crack, or maybe the same crack that found a new place to surface. Either way, it’s impossible to hold the whole of your eternal heart in your small hands, keeping its insides from spilling out.
But perhaps that’s why hearts break.
Perhaps the only way to get a good look at what’s inside these steady, rhythmic creations is to break them. Maybe you’ve broken your own heart before, but more likely you needed someone else to do it for you.
Someone with whom you made a holy pact in some other ethereal place. Someone who stepped forward when you asked, who will help me see the insides of my own tender self? That someone stepped forward, maybe shyly, saying in a small, awe-filled voice, “I will do this sacred act for you.” And we, we forgot those vows our souls made with each other. We left the memories of those sacred acts behind when we entered this realm; we decided to feel the full emotional range of opening up our most tender areas. And what a range it is, from whispered solitude to sinuous, passionate flame.
And so, we’re left here with strong hearts that crack open like an accordion, to the music of tears and soft, bitter sighs scented with whiskey. And each holy heartbreak allows us yet another bold opportunity to see our own inner workings. Does this make it easier to hold the broken parts, or do you still feel like rusty needles are nestled in your stomach? Do you still raise your face to the clouds and ask of the rain, why have you made your home inside my heart? Ask of the elements these questions if you must. And when you’ve had your fill of sorrow and you’re ready to come home to yourself, find one of those beautifully sculpted, divinely created cracks in your heart. Hollow it out a little, but do it with love. And then, when the space looks like the exact size and shape to fit all you are, climb inside. Bring your softest blanket and paint your lips wine-red. Curl up here in this heart space. Fill it with your regrets, your unrequited love, your sorrow and your pain over this boomerang life. Close yourself up tight, and when you’re ready to step out again, you’ll know. You’ll feel that internal nudge that it’s safe again. The rusty needles, the hard-edged hammer, the overgrown vines that choke; they’ll have been turned to softly scented pine needles, to a soft paintbrush perfect for sealing heart cracks, to fruiting vines, and you’ll hear your soul say, here love. I’ve got you. And in that moment, step into the light.
You’ll notice that when you put the pieces back together, they don’t quite fit the same way. You’ll find that your heart has grown in size, and has stretch marks from when you crawled inside it, safe in its enveloping shelter. So find a new way to put those pieces together, one that allows it to grow and reach new heights, new ways of experiencing love.
And step out confidently once more, with a smile on your lips and a new song in your fresh heart.