I’m gonna give you what you wanted, but my heart will never stop.
Tell you that I’m fine even though I’m not.
You’re gonna know for the rest of your life that this is true:
I’m never getting over you.
I won’t pretend that I won’t find someone else
You’ll be a closed book sitting there on the shelf
I’ll never have to open it again
To know the pages of the words of what could have been
Heartbreaks can be an ongoing struggle in the life of those who take the risk to fall in love. And Colbie hits the nail on the head in this beautiful song that struck me like lightning while in the car to work this morning (weird, how you can suddenly ‘hear’ and feel lyrics like it’s the first time, even after having heard a song a 100 times before). Let me tell you: it was a heartbreak parade all the way to the office.
And that still surprises me. Some days my entire being still feels like it’s completely raw. Every nerve ending exposed to the weight and bite of the world around it. Painful and brittle and just so totally on edge that it’s almost a miracle that I’ve not toppled over yet. Overwhelmed by emotions that are usually tightly reigned in and under control. Freaked out by the depths of my feelings.
I mean, look at this blog, it has pretty much a constant undertone of weepy heartbroken-ness in most of the things you read from my hand. It bothers the hell out of me, seeing as I rather write cheery shallow little stories that bring a smile to readers faces, but I’m used to writing what is current in my life. Even if I’m trying to cover more than just matters of love. Sometimes…that just doesn’t pan out. The heart takes precedence over a great many things, no matter how badly we would want to see it differently. And though they say that it’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all, I can definitely confirm that that’s not exactly how that feels. At all.
I find myself going from ‘over it‘ to ‘completely broken‘ and everything inbetween. Sometimes in the span of minutes. I suppose most of that is because I desperately WANT to be okay, while generally speaking I am not (nor should I have to be). And though I have no doubt about the army of ‘someone elses‘ in my future – the thought of it still has me slightly nauseous.
It’s a struggle, because at my very core I’m both a ‘fixer‘ and Queen of Denial. The things about myself that are broken (or need work) either get fixed on the double, or get compartmentalized into the darkest recesses of my brain never to be seen again. Complete and utter denial of having ever existed. Yet, these past few months I’ve struggled to place my last particular break-up in either of, those categories. I can’t deny the existence of its pain, nor have I been able to fix it.
But this morning Colbie showed me that there’s a third option. I can just close that book, with all its pain and aches and memories, accepting them for what they are and throw it on a back shelf in my mind where it will remain for all eternity. I don’t need to fix my heart – for it was never really broken, it was just changed by the time spent with him. And though my heart in that sense is now different, it is still whole enough not to require fixing. Hooray for new thinking-patterns.
However – sadly – in the grand scheme of things…this knowledge changes absolutely nothing. It’s not a band-aid for the heart. Not superglue for the pieces. No quick fix for the heartbroken. It’s just another train of thought as I’ve had so many these past two months. Another track towards what I hope is the exit route of this funk I’ve been in. And probably, possibly, maybe just as bad of a solution as the rest of my ‘coping tactics’ have been so far.
But there’s no harm in trying. No harm in these attempts to get better. It’s when you stop trying that it gets tricky. So I’m getting on that Colbie Caillat wagon and shelving the book that is him. Never to be opened again. I hope. Think. Wish.
God – how I’ve doubted actually posting this. Even though I’ve always been a personal blogger – some things feel a bit TOO personal sometimes. Or risque in the non-control over who reads these pieces. What if the wrong person stumbles upon you pouring your heart out? But some things just NEED to be written off my chest…so – here I am. Posting anyway. About a matter of the heart.