Shattered Heart
When a heart shatters, does it make a sound? Is there an expectation it shouldn’t so we can suppress it?
Today, I hiked alone, in the sand dunes overlooking Lake Michigan
To the place we used to sit and stare at the night sky together
Marveling at the infinite splendor of the universe
I told you how lost and lonely it would be floating up there
You leaned in and told me not to worry
We won’t be lost
We have been there already
It’s where our souls first met and fell in love
They have always led us to find each other again and again
I felt a warm peace overcome me back then
And I smiled
Today, there was no warmth and peace
Dark clouds rolled in from over the lake
Blanketing the sky in a steely-cold blue-grey
The wind picked up and grew bitter cold
Snow squalls wisped ashore
Periodically whiting out the view before me
You are gone now
We will never again enjoy this place together
I don’t care to ever come back here again
This cold wind blew out the flame inside me that burned for you
Leaving a cold chill in my bones that will last forever
I believe a soul, unwilling to defy conventional thoughts, standards, and behaviors, is damned to exist miserably for eternity; never having tasted the fruits of its greatest hopes and dreams — letting the fear of a broken heart limit the experiences of the true beauties in this life and its legacy left behind in this world: cowardice.
To love hard does come with high risks. However, I now know to love harder than I ever thought possible, is glorious.
As I age, the end of my journey in this lifetime drawing closer, I know I can love again. I have lived the beautiful fruits of all my hopes and dreams fulfilled. For I have loved harder than I thought possible. And I am experiencing the crushing blow of a broken heart.
I am happy I did not allow normal standards and conventional thought to govern my free spirit. I have soared high above the tallest clouds. I have been tossed and turned by the turbulences of this lifetime’s worst storms. And I have crashed into the hard rocky ground.
I’m recovering and I will love hard again — my free spirit once again soaring on high. I don’t know whom or when, but I know I will not leave behind a legacy of cowardice. Quoting from a Dylan Thomas poem:
“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light…”
Today I buried a piece of our hearts, deep within the timeless, shifting sands of these dunes, at a place special only to us. Many years from now, perhaps an archeologist will uncover it and learn what it means to truly love hard and what it means to experience a shattered heart. Or maybe it will be us, in another lifetime, our souls, having found each other again. Together we will uncover what never should have been.
I hope everything you told me about us is true — until we find each other again in another lifetime, or a different moment in time, or some distant celestial explosion, goodbye, my love, goodbye.
Chris Patton is a writer focusing on helping readers feel the experience of PTSD flashbacks and other symptoms, rather than just reading about them. He also crafts the occasional poem about love and longing.
