Will a Heart Ever Truly Heal?

When your heart breaks
Who is there to put it back together?
When your heart dies
Who is there to resuscitate it?
When your soul begins to leave (you)
Who is there to chase it back in?
When you close your eyes

And all you feel is pain

Who is there to help you open your eyes?

I blog ... a lot. I blog because I can and because my heart has been broken. Broken isn't really the word. I'm not sure we actually have a word in the English language strong enough to describe the catastrophe that claimed my heart. It's often unbearable. So I blog. And plus, it keeps me from starting small fires and becoming a stalker (joking!). I am the proverbial Humpty Dumpty although I didn't sit on a wall. My sin was to open a kitchen cabinet door and find something that obviously wasn't meant for me to find.

It's been about a year and a half since, we'll just call him Bob, since Bob broke up with me. Actually, it really wasn't even a break-up. I busted him with drugs and he dumped me. That's about the gist of it. He said he didn't want to "hang" with me anymore. There were never any arguments. Nothing. We got along well. I've known him forever. No issues. Except for that one small important detail. He's a profound drug addict who can really keep a secret and lie to you while looking into your eyes. I've never felt such heart ache in my adult life - ever.

Your fear trickles down your brow
leaving its telltale mark as it burns your flesh
permeating the air with the putrid smell of burning skin
It slithers like the venomous serpent into your eyes
Injecting you with its poison, infecting you
Blinding you to what’s in front of you
The disturbing blank stare that hints to the death of your essence
The dread hovers over you like a deadly aspiration
Waiting to reap what’s left of your tortured soul
It comes slicing its way into your body
Searching for some form of conscience
It finds nothing but a pit of darkness

I spent a year or so crying. I cried almost every day. No actually I did cry every day. All day, at work, at home, in the car, in the store, at commercials, because of songs. I looked like crap. I was tired. It was hard for me to work and I called in a lot. I was melting.

The army of flies storms its way through the front gates
Their evil masked by the beauty of their metallic blue uniforms
They surround the enemy, screaming their battle cry
Wings furiously flapping as they aim their lethal weapons
Depositing their hopes for a new generation
Demise
The new warriors emerge, stalking, ready to destroy
Resuming the attack of their ancestors
Biting, chewing, gorging themselves on the corpse
Writhing, twisting, contorting
The brazen warriors consume the necrotic flesh
Leaving behind the skeleton that was once my heart.

I also wrote a lot. I kept a journal of all the weird things that happened right before and immediately after "the break-up" but haven't been able to read it. I just can't. And maybe I won't ever because I think it'll really open up some old wounds that I really just don't want to revisit. I realize that there are therapists out there who will argue with me when I say this, but sometimes, it's ok to not look back. You don't have to "solve" every problem in your life. Some are more important that others and this one - well this one is just too big for me to tackle and I'd prefer to just leave it under the same rock my ex crawled out from under. Which leads me to the big question ...

When will this hurt go away? When will I stop being shocked at being broken up with over drugs - drugs that I didn't even realize existed? When will all the king's horses and all the king's men put this Humpty Dumpty together again? I often wonder if a heart every truly completly heals. Or are we always a little bit more jaded with each passing experience? Does time really heal all wounds or is that just some stupid cliche? I guess I'll just have to wait and see.