how do I feel when I have a broken heart?
July 15, 2012 § 39 Comments
I was going to comment on The Boy in the Hat’s brilliant piece “How Do You Feel When You Are Heartbroken” My reply became too long, so I wrote it here instead. I’d also like to mention that if Vincent were a spider, he’d be the female black widow that eats her lover after they mate. So, thank goodness he is not a spider, and simply A Boy in a Hat.
Heart break to me is/or feels like….
…a girl who has been told the flower that best describes her is an evil poppy. Like Bill Gates eating an Apple. Éponine when the love of her life Marius meets Cossette. Marius when Éponine admits her love while dying in his arms. The Phantom knowing the only part of Christine Daaé he will ever have is her voice. Like i have to throw away my favorite hat that i wore on a billionaires private island. The boy across the hall is never coming home–and when he does i’ll already be gone. A wild beautiful bright orange fish stuck in a man-made pond. The boy in the hats body-which he says he doesn’t love, a beautiful girl who falls in love with men who act and look just like her renegade debonair Daddy. A puppet without a hand, lust without a lover. Having 100 men to choose from, and wanting only one. Kissing a boy I don’t care about-to get over the boy i want to be kissing. Like knowing the boy i love is in love with the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. Like coffee without cayenne and ginger, a pretzel without the salt, a pen without a sheet of paper to liberate her. My secret blog, before I had any followers. Like myself when i kicked out the boy across the hall because I found out he was reading my no-longer-secret blog. Vincent Mars without his hat. Me, without my fingers, Dad’s old rocking chair with no one in there. Me, when I’m not writing. Like the boy across the hall pretending he doesn’t care–when he always cares too much. Like rain without the fresh smell, the itch on your foot you can never quite get. Falling in love with someones potential, and not what they already are. Like my 94 year old Gramma, when her best friend my Grandpa, went to heaven. The thought that my train Dagny will no longer salute me in the morning. That I fought for someone for so long, and now have given up. Blasting my music and not caring. The hurting in my stomach when I miss someone i cannot feel or touch, myself when i listen to Zac Brown’s song Colder Weather. Like James Blunt when he wrote “Goodbye my lover”. Like friday night and staying home alone. Like “a rambling man with a gypsy sort of brain…. always made for leaving”. Having the best day and not having anyone to tell it to. The Boy in the Hat’s brain without his body. My heart without my spine, hate without a break, pain attached to nothing. Caring for so long, then stopping–and not even knowing why. Heidi without her goat. Pooh bear without his Piglet, the Beast being mean to Bell when really he wanted to hold her because he loved her. The little Mermaid not having her voice to tell her prince charming that she wants him. Like a too long post that would have been better, shorter. Hearing a pretty love song when you are broken hearted. Always wanting what you can’t have. Hating someone you love, because you don’t think that you should love them. Like 510 facebook friends, and no one to call when you need someone to just hear you. Like 53 virtual ‘likes’ and no one who likes you in real life. Like writing a singles ad –bullett points exhibiting your best qualities-and feeling like nobody wants you for you. Jessica Hof’s husband having to leave his family for Afghanistan. Like Kip when he found out he had to spend most days in a wheel chair. Like Dumu without his goddess. Drinking tea without a train. Kissing without thinking. Like a dog without an owner. Dagny Taggart when she thought Francisco d’Anconia no longer loved her. Hank Rearden when he realized Dagny loved John Galt. Cinderella without her glass slipper. Howard Roarke without the ability to create his own towers. You, without me–once I’m gone and you realize how amazing i was, the things we could have done so brilliantly-together. Standing next to someone and still feeling lonely. Kissing an ex, not being able to control yourself because you like them that much. Me without you. Me, living without books and libraries. You without me. That’s what it feels like to me, to have a broken heart.
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