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MONDAY, JULY 04, 2011
 

ON HEARTBREAK

FUNPLEASE

Creative Writing

On Heartbreak...

I've come to the conclusion that having your heart broken transforms you, or at least me, into a child.

Aside from the initial stage: numb.

After that ...
you feel angry.
So you throw a tantrum. For a long time. At the world. And you take it out on everyone else for awhile. And you're mainly angry because you're confused, and you can't understand.

Like a child, who knows something bad has happened, but they have no idea why. And it's not that they actually don't know. You actually do know the REASONS why but you don't know WHY they EXIST. So then the child becomes afraid. You withdraw into a your sadness. You withdraw from the world because you're too scared. Because you know that every moment, every breath taken within that world is an unconcious attempt to get back to happiness. And that cannot be allowed to occur, because it seems that anything good can be taken away in a matter of moments. So it's pointless to try to attain it. And as foolish as that kind of logic is, to a child, that black and white view is reality. Pain and hurt blind, blur the senses of logic and reason. Pain limits understanding to that of simple innocence.

So now that all seems pointless, and you're niave and innocent, you wander around under your umbrella of childish denial. And you move through life avoiding any opportunity of regaining the pursuit of true happiness; instead seek out the limitless but ultimately temporary, perishable, joys of life. And all you know is you and these. And like a child you are selfish and self obsessed, unaware of surroundings, void of any sense of responsibility. You will fight against everyone as they try to break into your shell, if only to help. You will fight against anything that you deem a threat. You refuse. Because you're all grown up, you can do this. You don't need those things necessary for true happiness, like friends, family, goals and responsibility - life. You can handle what you've got. And you're 'happy' with what you've got, you say, as you watch it all fall through your fingers like sand.

And after awhile the sandcastles you built in your fortress are being washed away by the ocean, the force of nature, the force of the truth, that everything made from such weak foundation can and WILL be lost in an instant.
And as you go through each loss of each temporary castle, every one more painful and humiliating than the next, you begin to realise..this is worse than what was before. This is more pointless than the beginning.
So you try to stand up and like a child, you fall back down. Again, you try to grasp the ever escaping sand, watch it wash away. Grasp. Loss. Try. Fall. And you do it again and again and again and again and by the time you've actually gotten onto your feet again, you're covered in blood and bruises but at least you made it. At least you've made it. At least you made it. At least she made it. At least I made it. And you suddenly know the view of an adult. You, the child, the damaged and abused, weak and angry child. You, have grown. You see the world from a new height.
You see that to love, run, withdraw, fight, cry and eventually, to love again- that is how one grows. Not with the help of a blissful golden moment, where the sun rises and all is understood, all is accomplished.
No, but through the fight to grow even within the chaos, through the pain and misery. You are so tall. You are free.

I am wise. And now I understand.


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