hold me by the heart and rip me open

a work in progress. it will hopefully change every couple weeks :)

Can you ever really trust someone again... after they've hurt you? And I don't mean they told you a little lie, or accidentally punched you in the face (trust me, this happens). I'm talking about the real hurt... the soul-hurt, the you-just-drove-a-blade-into-my-chest-and-stole-my-breath hurt. How far does forgiveness stretch? And do wounds really ever heal?

A part of me says no. The realistic part of me says hell no- trust is forever severed. To attempt any future relationship is to guarantee a relationship filled with jealousy, suspicion, insecurity, repressed anger and spitefulness.

Yet then there's the other part of me... the beautiful part of me... the part that says "Of course it's possible." This part soothes me, assuring me that a deep love can heal the most jagged of wounds.

None of it makes any sense. I can expound on the subject for years, and it still would refuse to make sense. It's starting to seem like we eventually choose an emotion and we stick with it; perhaps that's what we call "growing up." It's merely giving up... on trying to figure it out. And since it's much more socially acceptable to choose disillusion, we choose disillusion. Anger and condescension are two other favorites. We choose to be jaded, rather than risk the chance of being hurt again and again.

But to choose disillusion... well, that is the biggest loss of all. This is to sacrifice our soul self. It is to concede that this is all life is going to offer me, and I have no right to dream any bigger, because I'm only going to get my heart broken.

... So what?

Break my heart. Break it again and again. I want to keep being broken until I'm merely a couple of teardrops on the ground. And then I'll absorb into the earth and be reborn. The point is I will be alive in the process of all this living I seem to be bound to do.

I feel as though I'm at a point in my life where the people around me expect me to sacrifice fundamental pieces of my soul in order to be an acceptable part of their society. Even some of the people closest to me seem completely taken aback during those rare moments where something wholly authentic and pure slips from my lips.

People look at me like I'm slightly insane - I've either been way too sheltered, or I'm lacking the necessary brain cells to function efficiently.

I am neither of these things.

Even though perhaps I'm a little crazy. If crazy means I believe that life can be more than paying the bills and marrying someone with education and money and being a size 6 and voting in the primaries and ignoring injustices and eating organic food and learning pilates and cramming so much bullshit into my mind that there's no room for authentic expression or a moment's time to sit and breathe and take care of my soul.

It would be so much easier to just shut off these thoughts and get in line behind everybody else. And I'm not saying that I know more than anyone else... or that I'm better than anyone else. All that I'm saying is that I'm at that point... the precipice everyone reaches at some point in their life.

The point where you choose to be safe, or you choose to be your Self.
 

To step back into safety, or fling yourself over the edge.

And I can't tell you which way this is going to go.

Reviews

[Father Mojo]

this is good. there's only a few stylistic changes i would make in the entire piece and that's only because, when it comes down to it, i'm so self-absorbed that i think that all writing should sound like mine. the substance, however, is flawless. i could challenge a few of your presumptions, like maybe the beautiful part of you is the pat that makes you want to give up and the unbeautiful part of you is the part that keeps making you go back for more, knowing how flawed and painful any relationship will be-that part has only tricked you into believing that it's "beautiful."

i doubt whether even i have become so cynical that i buy what i just said, but the point is that the strength of the piece is that it inspires thought and reflection and possibly even debate--it forces the reader to wrestle with the subject matter. and in the end, isn't that the best we can ever hope for as writers? it would be nice to be "discovered"; it would be really fantastic to be rich and slightly famous; but when it comes down to it, we write hoping to make some sort of connection with someone, so we don't feel like we are so alone and isolated.

authentic connections are rare and they are fleeting and the point of everything said up to this point is that i connected with this piece and i will give you the highest praise that i feel one writer can give to another: i wish i wrote that.

okay, i think that there is a review in there somewhere

[iammerideth]

oh my gosh!
love it
i can relate.
you sure can write.
and maybe its would be vain to believe you think you know more, but you have the right to say you do,
this truly backs you up.
you seem well aware of what is going on. love it

[lilain]

I really like this. I've read the reviews and everyone seems to feel the same or has a similar experience, so I won't go on with my jibbrish.

So, I'll simply say I like your style of writing. It is relaxed... effortless... and that is important when conveying something as profound as finding yourself.

Cheers,
lilain

PS. Thanks for letting me know there are others with similar thoughts... indeed, we aren't alone.

[jen -- JG]

Knowledge gives understanding as well as power. But then understanding something because you suddenly know about itcan also leave you powerless and confused.

You have a strength inside you Kara, that you are as yet unaware of. A strength that lets you write your feelings, doubts, anxieties and thoughts as you have in this piece. A strength that will help you live with and grow from any decision you make - and a strength which brought you through all to this point where you begin to question.

Well done Kara on both levels - your personal one and your writing of it.

Thank you for this

(((hugs)))) jen-JG

[Jeanmarie Flaherty]

It was early morning, sun rising, creeping through my curtains in a drowsy whisper when Brian stretched lazily and WHAM!...elbowed me right in the nose. It stung, it was an accident.....


It was earl evening when he broke my heart, again and again and again.

My accidentil nose pain, it remains a giggle in my heart, the knife he stuck in there purposely...every time he says he's sorry and every time I try to forgive, because, hell, love cures all, right? the knife wrenches and twists and threatens to bleed me to death...


PERFECT thoughts...


all my love, my dear..

~me.

[Bubo]

Oh Kara
Such webs us humans weave, such deep emotion and the hurt shows..........what can i say, the last two lines..........

To step back into safety, or fling yourself over the edge.


And I can't tell you which way this is going to go.

This is where I was in the summer after a very very bad broken heart, trust shattered and all dreams broken.......I have no idea how I picked myself up, but I did, and just as I was getting stronger i had to decide did I want to risk all that pain again by going back................
but, my heart rules my head, and I jumped after much debating.
Why?
Because I truly believe that such a love rarely finds you in life, and we are all capable of making mistakes,
of misinterpretation (is that a word?)
And knowing that you exist as half a person for me was not enough, he completes me, deep down it felt right, always did, and now we have a better understanding of each other and have bonded on a level that i no longer mis trust or fear, it takes time.
Some things in life make us stronger, I took off my rose coloured glasses and saw what was standing in front of me, not all as pretty as I thought, but I never doubted the love, and knew I would never love like this again.
If you don;t jump won't you always wonder? Your heart will tell you.

[J.P.O.et]

Kara, this is unbelievably moving to me
It seems far too many of us view 'growing up' as 'giving up'
and that's just sad
Life is not about how much, your monetary value, your net worth
Life is about compassion, tolerance and the sharing of ideas
life isn't about what material things we can give to our children,
it is about the mental things, teaching, understanding and love
Those that cannot appreciate the tender truth, that comes from your lips, are the ones missing the point
Till you are merely teardrops in the ground to be absorbed and reborn
Absolutely beautifull
Once again I am moved
Thank you
J.P.O.et

[Bart Harper]

I think you and I are in the same situation lol. I enjoyed the writing because it touches home with me. When my father died last year, I simply stopped caring what other people think. It made me realize that life is short, so you better live it. I finished my first book in the last few months, and it is a big hit with some, but the tight asses of society are outraged. I am a teacher, and the book is about my life as a young, ornery fat kid growing up in rural West Virginia. Its written from a kid's perspective! Because i am a teacher, I am expected to be someone I am not. I have to be Mr. Prep lol, when in reality, I am a good old boy who likes drinkin beer, motorcycles, and tattoos...lol. Anyways, I like the story because you are talking bout yourself, and being yourself. That is important! Those people who think that they are perfect and cannot laugh at life are going to always be miserable.

Author Bart Harper
http://fatkidadventures.googlepages.com
just in case you want to check out my controversy lol

[Gary H]

Well here's a funny thing. I could have written your piece word for word. These thoughts have gone through my head many times over the past ten years or so since my ex vanished with my daughter growing inside her. However life goes on and I have to get myself back together again. I appreciate the crazy element you suggest and also reaching the summit when you don't know whether you will fall flat on your face or fall into a new world of happiness. Thats what makes life worth living - the challenge to find whether your destiny is what you hope for or not.

I also totally agree with Natasha's review except I don't like the Goo Goo Dolls or write poetry about the ex.

Hey, I read a book called 'the Art of Loving' by Erich Fromm to find out if there was something wrong with me. Appears there isn't and thankfully I have found someone who believes in me now and who I believe in as well.

[Boyd Johnson]

ive spent a fair amount of time, and an even larger amount of whiskey debating this very thought.

broken hearts, beat just fine.

its something ive learned, and not as a hopeless fact. things will get better. do what you believe is right, and you cant stray to far.

we are invincible. we may bend, but we will not be broken.

a wonderful piece, filled with hope.

[Blindmikey]

Again you have a lovely string of thoughts here. If I would ask anything of you, it would be to take that jump. It's obvious you know too much at this point and can't turn back. To turn back is to commit a suicide more fatal than the blade or the OD.

I know, stupid f*****g insight, it ruins everything and takes away our chance of being in an easy happiness. But your blessing is your burden and your burden is your blessing. It's that insight that stretches your heart to bigger proportions, and though you'll always feel its tug, it will *always* lead you to a greater degree of life and with it new heights of happiness.

What a puzzle this life is. But remember that it is merely a puzzle.
Yay for the picture we'll find when we are done! :D