Heartbreak, Break-up, and Heart-death

Sometimes, it can be such a risky business to love. Memories of past hurt can make one a prisoner in one’s own heart. And when one does take a risk but is then abandoned, one can feel like shattering into little pieces, into unrecognizable bits. It saddens me to see young people destroyed by the loss of a love, by the hurt of such a loss. Some people do irrational things or violent things that they wouldn’t have thought themselves capable. It need not be this way.

Ever had that overwhelming feel of a break-up? That indescribable scorching of your heart that leaves you powerless, lost, and wishing that you were never born so you could rid your self of that tear in your heart-a tear caused by the knifes that seem stuck stubbornly in your heart, knifes that seem connected to the dragging rocks of previously great memories?

Heartbreak, like a virus, uses your own self against you. The memories of yesterdays can become the horrors of today. The smiles that use to sip into your senses, tickling you into uncontrollable laughter, now become the draft that rids you of comfort and sanity. Your mind may even punish you with thoughts about your possible foolishness for believing that the smiles would always favor you…

A heartbreak can be poisonous to the mind and body, but it need not be. The heart is an incredibly resilient organ; it can recover from any hurt if one accepts one’s mind as the powerful ally it is. Tomorrow can be brighter. A loving heart is a loved heart, a free heart, and it is not defined by one singular object/person.

Consider the poem Dissolution by Christine Klocek-Lim, which I discovered yesterday. What impressed me about the poem is Klocek-Lim's ability to take a subject so fragile, so potentially rich in histrionics, and confine it strictly in the realm of extrospective description. Reading the poem, I almost feel like the narrator is also the girl in the poem. Klocek-Lim takes away the heart, while talking about the heart--this has the effect of giving one an upper hand, rendering the pain almost confined in a box despite its attempt to confine. But pain will confine if given the opportunity.

In the end, to the heart, it never really matters who is at fault; it only sees its pain, and the heart can become crippled by this pain. If one can stand outside one's self and see the potentially crippling effect of heartache/hearbreak, one gains an upper hand, allowing one to respond more constructively to it.

A heart loves other hearts, starting with its own heart. A love that is lost, while painful, is just one lost heart, no matter how big a space that heart once occupied. There is always that singular heart, one’s own heart, which is a spring waiting to nourish other hearts.

Move forward, carefully, into the unpredictable stream of life, but do move. Do not imprison/poison that singularly important heart—that one that will never leave you, that one that dutifully and lovingly dances in honor of you—your own heart.





Technorati tags: lost love heartbreak break-up author blog