Heartache

Sometimes my heart hurts. It hurts so much it feel as if it is being tightened, slowly, carefully, expertly. Until it feels as if I can't even cry out. Dredging up tears to release the pain becomes an ordeal in of itself. And I, I feel as if I'm being split into two while dying a little inside all the while.

It takes a lot for me to write this. To share with the world what I have resolutely refused to tell anyone about. How strange this must be, to bare my soul to complete strangers, to anyone who wants a peak inside while keeping hidden from those who most care about me.

Times like this I want to reach inside and tell my heart there is no need for this much pain. That though it might hurt intensely at times, keeping quiet is a fools game. One destined for silent heartache and painful loneliness. That imagining oneself self-sufficient in matters of the heart are childish thoughts, better left in moments in the past when a kiss could cure a scrape and the presence of the sun could wipe clean the dusty moodiness that lingers inside.

And even though it might feel as if it is straitened until suffocated, the pain is necessary for real joy to be experienced. For how can we know day without night or appreciate the light without darkness? It seems as if everything has a contrast, in order for us to really understand the beauty that is life.

And it is for this reason that I bear my heartache, silently, patiently. Because I know from this will come moments of sheer joy. The kind that feels as if the sun itself took up residence in my soul, radiating from within powerful rays of brilliant light.

Making me feel once again, that anything is possible.