January 11, 2014 § 8 Comments
The thing about heartbreaks is that they happen silently. You don’t and won’t hear a heart breaking. It just, breaks. Shatters. In a way that it gets impossible to even remember that there was once a time when it wasn’t broken.
All my life I’ve been trying to name this sinking feeling. The kind that puts a huge boulder on your chest. I’ve understood what exactly it is, now.
A heart weighs a lot more when it splits in two. Hence, the sinking feeling.
I’ve wondered if it’s possible to stay in love after having your heart broken. Apparently it is. When it’s the unrequited kind. You know, selfless and all. No matter how hard the heart breaks, you don’t fall out of love if you fall in it, once. Especially, when you’ve created a life of your own in the castle that you built in the air, with the beloved.
Sure you’re human. So you can cut yourself some slack and stay drenched in sorrow. In grief. In pain.
I’ve come to realize that there are two ways of dealing with grief. Either you take it all in at one go, like consuming poison. Instant death. Or, you take it in, in bits and pieces. Like smoking a cigarette, that burns your insides everyday.
Do you prefer the poison or would you take a drag from this cigarette I’ve been smoking?