The other evening I had to be with the fact that I have now had my two children had their hearts broken at an early age, over the failure of their parents' marriages-- me to their fathers. As she sobbed into my shoulder how she "wanted it to be the way it used to be" how she "missed the way it used to be" I found there were really no words to say, because I cannot fix it, like a toy that needs super glue, no this was not something I could fix, ever. I could offer up a couple of band aids here and there, to help ease some of her broken heart, and she did accept those happily, and that provided a very faint light on a dark bedtime full of tears.
I am not sure if they ever get over the hearbreak, I am going to say no. I am sure I will never get over the heartbreak, of seeing their hearts break, it is far worse than what I feel, at least I willing (blindly) entered into what became my heartbreak, they had no choice. I feel so for all the kids out there who have these little broken hearts, that somehow must wrap themselves in their own soul bandages while their losses attempt to heal or grow over so slowly like a slow growing garden vine, but one day will that vine be quite thick, and need to be cut back..I wonder how they get past it all, beyond all the dumb things and useless things we tell them, there is no answer, no this one has no fix.
So now this super powerful rush of emotions had landed squarely at my feet. Like a novice football player who has no idea what to do with ball, that is how I felt as I moved forward, like going through stiff deep mud. And then it is my turn to fall apart, like out of the blue it seems, almost 24 hours later, I cannot cope as I sob, and realize while this is not everyday, there is a part of me that is no further along than that dark day in February. There is nowhere to go, nothing to do, no one to call, because there is NO answer, no fix, no super glue for this..it just is..and I know on some level that "this too shall pass" as I find no solace in some bizarre reality that I enter into. And the eyes, my eyes, the circles, the purplish circles beneath them, that make me feel like I have been beaten by my emotions once again, they are there, haunting me. My eyes hurt so much that next morning. It is like all the memories, all the upset, all the tears that never end, just join together in one dark mass, and loom under my eyes and stare back at me, clinging to some vacant hope. And I hate it. I hate this look. I have often dreaded writing or thinking of things that bring me to these dark shadows, because I want to look pretty when I cry, like an actress we see in the movies, vulnerable, and lost, beautiful but sad, but all the while the tears compliment her somehow, but mine, mine ruin me, they take me into some other world, where I find it hard for me to recognize myself in the mirror.
I am not sure if they ever get over the hearbreak, I am going to say no. I am sure I will never get over the heartbreak, of seeing their hearts break, it is far worse than what I feel, at least I willing (blindly) entered into what became my heartbreak, they had no choice. I feel so for all the kids out there who have these little broken hearts, that somehow must wrap themselves in their own soul bandages while their losses attempt to heal or grow over so slowly like a slow growing garden vine, but one day will that vine be quite thick, and need to be cut back..I wonder how they get past it all, beyond all the dumb things and useless things we tell them, there is no answer, no this one has no fix.
So now this super powerful rush of emotions had landed squarely at my feet. Like a novice football player who has no idea what to do with ball, that is how I felt as I moved forward, like going through stiff deep mud. And then it is my turn to fall apart, like out of the blue it seems, almost 24 hours later, I cannot cope as I sob, and realize while this is not everyday, there is a part of me that is no further along than that dark day in February. There is nowhere to go, nothing to do, no one to call, because there is NO answer, no fix, no super glue for this..it just is..and I know on some level that "this too shall pass" as I find no solace in some bizarre reality that I enter into. And the eyes, my eyes, the circles, the purplish circles beneath them, that make me feel like I have been beaten by my emotions once again, they are there, haunting me. My eyes hurt so much that next morning. It is like all the memories, all the upset, all the tears that never end, just join together in one dark mass, and loom under my eyes and stare back at me, clinging to some vacant hope. And I hate it. I hate this look. I have often dreaded writing or thinking of things that bring me to these dark shadows, because I want to look pretty when I cry, like an actress we see in the movies, vulnerable, and lost, beautiful but sad, but all the while the tears compliment her somehow, but mine, mine ruin me, they take me into some other world, where I find it hard for me to recognize myself in the mirror.
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