HeartLines

And suddenly, every heartbreak I’ve ever suffered slammed into me with the force of a thousand trucks, each one hitting the dam that held my tears back until it shattered, and they came running down my face. One after another after another after another. Emptying any last affection I had to offer onto my pillow in the form of my liquidized love. Certified lover girl no longer, I can’t handle giving my heart away again, maybe I could if I were stronger. But I’m not and this life has led me to think my role, my place, is not in love because it isn’t worth the heartbreak, the permanent dull, hollow ache in the empty chasm where a heart used to reside. It moved out a long time ago, but at least I still have my pride. I don’t even want much, just a loving glance or touch. Sometimes I think it’s better to be independent, to not need someone to lean on like a crutch. But I have too many letters I want to write, confessing my love about his most mundane traits. Because it’s those little things that make me swoon and believe in soulmates. “True perfect love, yeah right” the cynic in me retorts in the back of my mind. How can you already forget about the heartbreak, how can you be so blind? Maybe because I feel so inclined to rent my heart out once more. Just once more, I’m sure. Once more there is heartache, the dam breaks and the tears of past lives wash up on shore. But I need to keep searching so I ask the universe, “Give it to me. What else do you have in store? Doesn’t matter if it’s one heartbreak or four. All’s fair in love and war.”