The heart literally breaks.
I know, because I can feel the
shattered pieces rattling around in my chest as I walk. Some days the
collection decides to stay in one spot, while others, it feels as if they are
deliberately banging against the insides of my rib cage. Begging for attention? No, commanding me. Forcing pressure in a way
that leaves me short of breath, while the collective pieces pull and push my
central balance until it feels as if they will shoot out of my chest if I were
not to adhere to their bidding.
Then, just as suddenly as these episodes start- they stop.
The periods of numbness start to linger a bit longer, accompanied by short pauses of complete relief. It is then that small, earthly treasures are
found and the sky becomes the exact and perfect shade of purple. It is then that I feel those pieces, instead of pull and part, begin to come
together in a type of harmony. A very slow melody, as if in that instant, only
one note of a magnificent symphony is played. A note so lovely, that I can
dwell in that pleasant and full vibrato with a knowing; a faith, or a hope that
I’ll be able to hear the next just as vibrant.