Heartbreaking?
Maybe - but that places too much emphasis on you.
It wasn’t about you.
It was about them.
There was a pain in the room.
It transcended - no, consumed - the onlooker.
A jolt of reality with such force that you thought your heart was broken.
The sad part is that it wasn’t broken - the heart.
The pain felt was not enough to satisfy the pain you wish you felt.
And you are left. Not left alone like them, but left alone with yourself.
with an entirely intact beating heart, predictably pumping to the pulse of life.
A broken heart that didn’t even skip a beat? No.
The steady beat reminds you that the pain is not enough.
Another second passes - the memory is that much farther away.
Ironically, the pain grows as the pain decreases.
You try to forget, but struggle to remember.
The details fade, and you are left with a dream - a nightmare.
They don’t understand you. Then again, how could they?
You don’t even understand yourself.
You sang all night, cried, prayed - begged.
Your heart was highjacked by the pain.
Or maybe - a willing slave.
Chained to both endless love and a departure time.
Dragged through death’s valley, then thrown on a plane.
You’ve learned to smile, going through the motions.
Steadily flipping the pages of life - but you know where the story goes.
You asked to go home - but He changed its location.
You asked for your heart to be broken - but He dragged you to your cross.
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