Geode

What else can you do once you've given all you have to give? A broken heart is not symbolic, or rhetoric or metaphorical as anyone who has truly been broken hearted can attest. It's a deep, physical and emotional pain. Pain that inspires the saddest and happiest of times to pendulum thoughts from joy to fury. Tears run to the lips and power the muffled screams of frustration and loss into a tear soaked pillow. A smile makes room for quivering sobs and boats of distraught breathlessness. The ache, the actually void in your chest tightens and tugs and convinces you that you will die, that you deserve to die because the most important person to you in the world is gone, and you will never be the same.

That which I gave is gone. She took it, along with the joy of my soul. My heart has been torn from my body and discarded and I knew it could happen yet she had so much potential to offer, under all her fear and pain and anger that i thought I was strong and good enough to strip from her like a tattered shawl. A shawl? No. A plate of iron, encasing her physical and metaphysical body, attached to every nerve ending and tendon. Permanent save for the devastatingly painful removal that if done right, slowly, would not hurt as much but would hurt for much longer. To look into her eyes and see the dim fire of her spirit ferociously attacked by the demons of the hurt and ruin she lived through cracked my solidity and poured my own into her. All of it and it was fighting a good fight, making steps as one piece of heavy armor clanged to the ground with such conviction and weight it simply settled onto the earth rather than bang and spring around till gravity calmed it's freedom. These plates fell harder than gravities stern will, and fell in the smallest bits.

And so soon did I love her. So soon and so completely and relentlessly did I love her. She was good, but so hurt it hurt me, and she hurt me. I knew with all my heart that if I showed her what she meant to me and the earnesty of me wanting to help her that she'd allow herself to feel and show and embrace the love I felt from her towards me. When the walls came down the passion and love was almost overwhelming. Sadness is in reality, and those rare moments were unbroken geodes. The beauty of what could be with a little effort was so close, and so fucking apparent and real in in our hands but it never broke past what could be.

There will be a part two because I have so much to say but my heart can't take reliving it enough to finish right now.