Bleeding Heart

When did your heart first break into a trillion shards?  Have you ever recovered?

I'm not sure I have, I know I've tried to put the pieces back together, sweep some of them under the rug, others have flown far and wide, more than likely, never to be discovered.  I was lost for a long time without even knowing it.  Trying desperately to fit in, but not succeeding, because, like all of us, I am one of a kind.

I've done my research and, for the most part, I fit where I need to, now.  But, once in awhile, a night comes along where hell lets its fangs of fear and demolition free and all bets are off.  I hold on tight.  In a fog, I look for some of the pieces that were lost.  I dig them deep into my skin and I pray that tomorrow is going to be on my side.

And it always is.  The sky brightens, the clouds whiten, the air smells crisp and dewy.

A new day.  One I've never had before, one you've never had before.

The moon tonight was mostly full, the Fraser River held a mist above it's lazy waves.  The park held magic with it's dewy grass calling forth memories of when I was a kid.  And then the light lisp of memory stops, and I'm here and now, in the throes of an episode.  I know it won't be easy.  But I keep driving, I pay attention to the road which is mostly clear and I let the songs coming from my playlist soothe my sautered soul.

I don't remember when it happened, the first break, the big break.  All I know is that the pieces are too far flung and all I can do is my very best to stay healthy.  Write. Exercise. Love.  Repeat.

Maybe you know when the fracture occurred, I have my suspicions but I really don't know.  Was it my first crush in Kindergarten that I met many years later only to find out he was not that into me?  Was it my first crush in grade school, much shorter, blonde and well, that's all I remember about him.  I don't think so.  I think something bigger and better broke my strong heart.

The world.

The world I tried so hard to fit my pieces into, but it kept spitting them out.  This is not you it said, this is not for you, it kept saying. Look again, keep on looking.  But I gave up.  I decided that I couldn't look anymore for that thing, whatever it was that would make it all okay.  I was tired.

Until one day, I met the match.  The match to my bleeding heart.  And I knew that it was okay to be the way I was, that it was just fine to play the way I wanted to play.  That my life mattered.  My joy mattered.  My desire mattered.  Should it be dependent upon just one person?   Probably not.  I imagine my psychiatrist would say that was an unhealthy reliance upon one person.

But for now, and forever, it damn well is.

Sandra XXOO