Have you ever watched a crime/murder mystery show and the guilty party is found out because she had gun-powder residue on her hands?
Well, I have break-up residue on my hands.
And I don’t know if they just never covered it on Murder She Wrote, Law & Order, and all the shows in between, but
I don’t know exactly how to get the residue off.
It doesn’t matter how long you dated someone, if your lives were intertwined, there is residue. It doesn’t matter if you know you weren’t right for each other, there is still residue. There just is.
You can’t go from talking to someone one several times a day to cold turkey with out your body just feeling weird.
I refuse to believe that we were meant to open our hearts to someone only to close them tighter than a drawbridge in a heartbeat.
Yet that’s what we do. And although my head and my heart have been wiped clean. I’ve missed a few spots. I’ll be going full speed, and then there is that moment in the car where I’ll think of him if just for a moment, and it hurts. Ugh. I hate that!
And then there is church. The one day a week that I will always see him. I’m rolling smoothly forward, and then bam! Sunday. It’s awkward. And that’s natural. When I walk in, I get that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach…take a deep breath…and just trudge through.
One of my girls was dumped via text message last week. And now has to see him every day–she has break-up residue. As I took her for froyo (frozen yogurt) and listened to her hellacious week, she screamed
“Taylor Swift knows my life!”
‘I know I shouldn’t listen but Dear John (and one other song) speak to me.” Then she turned and looked to me for advice.
All I could say was what I’ve somehow figured out over time:
It hurts. Feel it.
Her Taylor Swift is my Sara Barielles and John Mayer. I listen to the songs that speak to how I’m feeling. I wear them out, and then one day, I don’t want to hear it anymore…because it isn’t my story anymore.
A broken heart of any degree is like a paper cut. It hurts like crazy initially…throbs even. And then it hurts a little less. Then you cut an orange and the acid makes it burn like you just cut it all over again. And then one day…One GLORIOUS day, you happen to look down at your finger and it is healed. You don’t know how you got there, but you did.
The residue wears off with time.
And just in case my dose of reality isn’t comforting…
Yesterday, in yoga as we were doing a twist and ‘opening up our hearts,’ Melinda, my yoga instructor said, “Open up your heart a little bit more.”
“Opening up your heart leaves your heart vulnerable and able to be broken. And when our heart breaks its a good thing, because when it heals together it is stronger.”
As I held the crescent lunge twist her words hit me. I’ve never heard anyone say that before. But it makes sense. After all the heart is a muscle. We talk about the baggage, the residue, but not the strength.
This is so beautiful. This post brought tears to my eyes. You were able to tell what I have felt but couldn’t say it.
Thanks Rebecca. I actually found that writing this blog was truly and unexpectedly therapeutic. I was able to just release it all. Hope your residue (and mine) wash off soon.
At least you had your head and heart wiped clean. I’m not there yet. They said dream-makers are also heart-broker. I’ve woken up from my dream to find that I have a broken heart. This post touched me in so many ways. Many thanks to you.
This is a great post!! Thanks for sharing some of your heart with US.
XOXO