Why Heal When You Can Throw Away?

Today, at around 8:30 in the evening, my heart broke.

It's over.

 

    The words rang loud and clear on the screen, black text against the blue background that now matched my face.  The blood drained slowly from my face and I stared, unbelieving, at the instant message.  I wanted so bad to wish it away but I saw it plainly in front of me.  Maybe I could ban it from my mind, hope it was a typo, or try and convince myself the message was never sent.  Somehow, I hoped I'd forget those two words. 

 

    I excused myself so very casually from the conversation, typing a quick and quirky "brb!", and fled to my room.  Emergency call to friend, my sister, my 911.  I collapsed halfway up the stairs, the phone threatening to slip from my shaking grasp as my whole body shook, my eyes overflowing with tears.  Control, damn it, control, I chanted to myself as I tried to silence my sobs.  My mom would freak if she heard me.  I had to make my body submit to my mind.  Never let the heart win, that had been my motto before... before...

 

    I somehow managed to get to the hallway, staggering towards my room, the sobs wildly leaving me with streaks of salty water on my cheeks and on my shirt.  I looked a mess, I could tell that much.  As I dragged my unwilling body to my room, I fell onto the bed and left the light off.  I didn't believe in light anymore, this was the dark hour afterall.

 

    "Vicky, Vicky," I sobbed, dialing her number frantically, that one number other than my house phone I had miraculously remembered by heart... for moments like these.  My friend, my sister, how I needed her.

 

    One ring...

 

    Two rings...

 

    Three rings...

 

    "Vicky, please," I yelped, the pillow beneath me soaking through with my tears yet again.  Please, I begged deep in my aching heart, Let there be one person I can tell.

 

    "You have reached..." The warm, welcoming recorded voice told me as my heart sunk lower into the ground.  I hung up and called again, and again, and again.  Still no answer.  I wept.

 

    "Please, someone, please," I groaned as the tears refused to let up.  I reached for the phone again and this time called my other friend, Ryah.  The time was 8:33p.m. and I had no hope she'd pick up but still, I tried.  No answer, not even her mother.

 

    I let my eyes have at it for a few minutes, heaving into my pillow and curling up into a ball.  I allowed my heart to wail as his cool, collected message replayed in my head.  I had been decieved, fooled, sucked in by his "love".  There was no love, I finally admitted.  If he had loved me, it wouldn't have been that easy.  I tried to numb myself, grow hate within myself.  Something!

 

    But nothing came, just sobs.  Relentless sobs.

 

    "Get a grip, get over it, get over it," I growled at myself as my body continued to shake.  I had seen it coming before, hadn't I?  I had been blindsighted just then but many times, I saw it coming.  Willed it so, to ease the pain that would come later if I'd stayed.  I had been a fool to believe in love, in relationships.  I had oh so willingly given up my love to the first person to act like they cherished me.  Of all the bull I could have believed.  So weak was I to believe that someone could love ME of all people.  I had doubted it before, said it couldn't be.

 

    No one can love me.  What's there to love?

 

    Everything, Lee.  I love you.  I love who you are.  You're beautiful.

 

    Bullshit, bullshit, BULLSHIT! My heart is too gullible, my mind knew better.  It always does.  Yet again and again the hopeless romantic in me swooned and cooed at his words, at the lies I now see so blankly in front of me.

 

    I stood up, wiping away the wasteful tears and with it the heartbreak.  I wouldn't be weak, I would be strong and get over it.  At the moment, that's what I thought at least.  As I walked back to the room, the office, and calmly told him I was back... I shook.  Of course, I willed myself to ignore my reactions. 

 

    Are you doing okay?

 

    Oh, it hurt so much.  I didn't want him to talk to me.  Just utter a welcome back and leave me alone, this was my limit.  My resolution would shatter if he were to continue on and act like everything was a-okay.  I replied cheerfully, the polar of my true state and that was all.  No more exchanges.  Interweb silence.

 

    Clean break?  I could only hope.  Now as I write, I can't anymore.  I can't.

 

    As I took out the trash, as was custom of any other Tuesday, I lugged a more than usual heavy kitchen trashbag and tried to ignore the bickering my mother continued to hold with me, though she failed to notice that I had withdrawn from the debate before it had even begun.  Back to the way it was before, love a myth and numbness a necessity.

 

    I hurled the trashbag through the air and it made a satisfying "Thwack" as it hit another bag of trash.  The weight on my chest leasened a small bit and as I walked away, I realized why.

 

    With the trash, I had thrown away my useless, tattered heart.  Yet... why does it still hurt so? 

 

Reviews

[OutToLunch]

L!!!! I am SO sorry!!!!!!! I'm reading and yelling at myself to answer the goddamned phone, but I can't cuz it's already happened. I don't want you to think you're not loved! Don't throw away your heart just because of Josh, your heart is important to me no matter what anyone says, does or pretends to do.