Member-only story
I’m Tired of My Heart Hurting
I’m tired of my heart hurting.
Tired of picking the pieces up off the floor over and over again,
Finding that they never fit back together quite the same way.
The edges are jagged and sharp,
No more smooth, soft sides.
Some of the tiniest shards are missing now,
Lost forever.
So when I do try and put the pieces back together again,
There are gaping holes where love used to be.
Where trust used to live.
Where faith and belief and hope used to reside.
I’m tired of my heart hurting.
The pink, luscious plumpness that used to beat with love,
Is now a dark, bruised purple from the beating that it’s taken.
The pumping of life-giving blood is a little slower until triggered again,
And then it instantly goes from shy and hesitant to fast and anxious,
Jumping right into fight-or-flight mode.
Waiting for the inevitable.
I’m tired of my heart hurting.
Not wanting to stay open anymore.
Not wanting to take another chance.
Not wanting to share itself.
Just wanting to be done.
Just wanting to run and hide.
I’m tired of my heart hurting.
The words are the hardest part.
The nicknames that make it feel seen and heard and loved.
The proclamations that are made in earnest, but much too soon, make it wary now.
When once they made it swoon.
I’m tired of questioning new words because those last ones were spoken so readily, but not with authenticity.
Of questioning a new heart because the last one broke mine so easily.
Of not trusting someone’s intentions because the last one was not at all who he appeared to be and found my heart easy to manipulate.
