MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “heartbreak”

A Snowman’s Heart

http://cdn-ugc.mamaslatinas.com/gen/constrain/500/500/80/2014/11/11/15/be/ig/pogiar13k8.jpgLegend has it that if you can warm up a snowman’s heart, s/he will become a real person. The person s/he once was. That is why we try to dress up these big, round snow-persons as best as possible, expecting that the glow will reignite inside and they will return to being happy.

Joy grew up believing in this legend and every year she would devise all sorts of things in the hope of turning the snowman into a real person. She would dress him with beautiful, colourful, clothes – not just the scarf, but a jacket, gloves, a woollen hat, sunglasses even. But that wouldn’t work. One year, she even made a snowwoman to keep him company, wishing that love and companionship was what made the snowman’s heart grow colder.

The year her parents divorced, Joy was still a teenager. When winter came, she understood why the season causes some to fill with melancholy and depression. And when her own heart was broken, she realised what it is that makes some hearts grow cold.

Then she found a random hand-written note in a book she had borrowed from the library. It read: “Here’s the thing about people with good hearts. They give you excuses when you don’t explain yourself. They accept apologies you don’t give. At your worst, they lift you up, even if it means putting their priorities aside. It’s because they don’t make you work hard for the attention they give you. They accept the love they think they’ve earned and you accept the love you think you’re entitled to. Let me tell you something. Fear the day when a good heart gives up on you. Our skies don’t become grey out of nowhere. Our sunshine does not allow the darkness to take over for no reason. A heart does not turn cold unless it’s been treated with coldness for a while”.

It was signed with a snowflake.

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The world in her eyes

https://i.pinimg.com/236x/6a/5b/1f/6a5b1f5af2932b3ae2d9af3ddb9034e4--contactlens-blue-eyes.jpgThe greatest love poems are written in dark nights of silver moons glistening on shattered adolescent hearts. Out of the strongest pain come the most genuine and powerful truths.

That’s what she was reading before she came to meet you. It was what made her tears start streaming again. She was trying. Trying to go on but not wanting to without you.

You could see it in her eyes, the pupils rippling like broken glass. She avoided looking at you because it hurt too much and she didn’t want to let you see the darkness that had overtaken her soul. She didn’t want you to see that, when you left, you drained her of the life you had imbued her with. Yet, she still loved you. She wanted to tell you how much she missed you. You know you felt the same. But for some reason you were both too selfish to admit to what you truly felt.

She had vowed to herself she would melt that wall of ice you had raised around you. She was certain you were meant to be together. You had been through so much. Everyone expected you would end up together. Forever. That’s the way it should go. Instead, while everyone was taking steps forwards, you were making them backwards. Out of miscommunications and bad judgements.

She wanted the world and, in her eyes, that was you.

She still wants that. She may no longer think of you as the super-hero she pictured you would be, but she still hopes deep down you are the tramp-turned-prince she dreams of. She still wants you. But you’re too stubborn to let her in. You know that she fits so perfectly like no other in your arms. In your mind. And in your heart. Every second you let pass without telling her that you’re not thinking of her or lying that it is not true, you plunge the dagger deeper inside. Because she has realised that it is those that can cause you the greatest happiness that ultimately will cause your deepest pain.

Self-inflicted wounds

http://buzzsouthafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/heartbreak.pngThey said to find someone who makes you happy. So you do. It takes time and effort and lots of heartbreak, but you do. You find that one and you start giving them all of your attention because they’re what makes you forget everything bad that’s going on in your life. They’re the first person you want to talk to in the morning and the last one before you sleep just so you can start and end your day with a smile. It sounds so great to have that someone. But it all gets so scary when you see how easily they can just leave and take all that happiness away too when they go.

And then you have to search again for that lost serenity first and foremost, before you can feel you can survive again. Because they’re still in your mind. And you still want it to be them that you talk to.

What is more, the pain of it all is hidden in everything around you, in all the things that hold a memory, a smile, a laughter, an image of a time when things were different. And you wonder if you’ll ever have that again. With that person you still feel for.

Love isn’t easy. Neither is life. It all takes effort. A lot of it. And a love that lasts. Truly and forever.

They said it would all be worth it in the end.

“The worst thing about heartbreak is that it’s a self-inflicted wound. After all, wasn’t it I who fell in love with you?” – Jessica Katoff

Broken people

https://leighchristian.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/brokenpieces.jpg

We are all broken. In some form or other.

We feel the need to believe in something ideal, in dreams, in positive thoughts.

But soon there comes a time when it all dawns on you.

There is no ideal.

There is no perfect.

And often nothing is at all like you hope it would be.

There is no prince on a white horse.

Nor is there a model-figure princess.

There is no magic to solve it all.

There is no clear reason for everything that happens.

Life is not as easy or as simplified as that.

We end up sharing out pieces of each other every time we open up to one another.

But whenever relationships end badly, those pieces are also lost.

And we are left broken.

Trying to continue life with the knowledge that we may never get what we want.

But despite being broken, we still fight to survive.

Because in the end, that is all we have.

Treacherous Love

forbiddenloveShe could understand when he would arrive because her heart skipped a beat. It was as if she had a telepathic sensor locked with his presence and she could sense him coming a mile away. She found herself longing for the moment she would see him again and couldn’t wait for the time to pass until that ‘next time’. She knew it was wrong. But she couldn’t help it.

She hoped he felt the same. He seemed to show that he did. She felt so safe and natural with him. As if the entire world disappeared in his arms, melting away in his kiss. But it never lasted for more than a few hours. And that prickled her heart like a rose losing its petals and having only its thorns remain. And as time passed, it hurt all the more.

They both knew it was wrong. Their society would not accept it. She was betrothed to someone else. Someone she had never seen before the day of her wedding. And he returned home to another. One others chose for him. She couldn’t stand the thought that someone else was sharing the most private moments of his life. She wanted that to be her. She wanted to be the extension to his arm.

They moved into this relationship knowing what they were getting into. They promised it would be carnal, to satisfy the lust they felt for each other. Yet, she fell deeper. She allowed herself to fall in love with him. To get stuck onto a reckless path, one she nonetheless enjoyed. And each time she saw him, talked to him, touched him, she was swept away further. Into a loop she knew she would never be able to untangle from. She found herself begging him to stay when she knew she should not even be there. His name constantly echoed in her mind. He was all she could think of and kept hoping he did the same. She could not step back though. Not now. Because they were both in too deep. And, quite frankly, she didn’t want to either.

Nothing safe is worth the dive. So maybe, she thought, it’s not really about that happy ending that they know will never come. It’s about the story they share together. And maybe that would make it all worth it. Because some hearts are meant to be broken, so that others can find their happiness.

Do you remember?

Memories“Do you remember that time at the lake, when you fell and as you sat on the frozen ice it broke, and when I came to help I fell in? We were laughing so hard, we had forgotten all about how painful it was!”

                “No. I don’t remember.” Her face was cringing, as she desperately tried to recall the memory.

“Do you remember our first dance? It was that song you still love; it was during a full moon, during our dinner at that French restaurant you chose. You were wrapped in my arms and looked into my eyes, and that is when you first told me you love me. Do you remember? I was in tears when I told you back how much I love you too.”

                She began to cry. She could not remember. No matter how much she tried, her mind was blank. It was as if this all happened in a movie she once saw and now had forgotten. Her head hurt from trying too hard to remember something that was no longer there.

“Do you remember the time you told me you were truly happy? We had gone sailing and a miscalculation on my part – let’s call it that – caused the boat to topple over. We fell into the sea and you began to splash around, jumping all wet and soggy over my shoulders and grabbing me so tight. I could feel your laughter resonate in my chest.”

                “No,” she said tearfully. She could not remember the incident at all. She remembered nothing.

On the contrary, he remembered everything. Every detail. Every experience. Every feeling. Every laughter. Every tear. Every moment. Every word. So vividly.

He always thought memory was a choice, but after her accident, he began to reconsider this perception. It was not her fault. It was not as if she chose to forget.

But he didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he remembered everything, or that she remembered nothing at all.

The empty chair

armchairIt feels strange to enter a house, look around, see and feel the presence of the people who live there but know that some of them will never return. It is an odd feeling to look at their favourite objects – like the large armchair that dominates the room, and realise that you will never see them again being there with them. The feeling struck Ariana the minute she walked into the house. She had just said her last goodbye to her grandfather. The grandfather who raised her when her parents were overworking themselves in order to secure a decent living for their family.

She had held on to everything so well throughout the four days of his passing, the funeral service, and the condolences. She had managed to limit the demonstration of her grief to a few tears that escaped from her welled-up eyes. She was holding it all together quite well.

Until that moment when she walked into her grandmother’s house. Her grandmother was either hiding her grief all too well or she had made her peace with everything. After all, she knew better than everyone that this man did not deserve to suffer so much. It was better this way. He was relieved and she was calmer now that he was somewhere better. At peace.

Ariana could not bear to see her grandfather tubed-up. Neither of her grandparents allowed her to visit too often for this reason. It was better that she maintained in her head the image of the strong, resilient and active man who had raised her, who chased after her in the yard when she was small, who surprised her with extravagant gifts from his trips abroad, who consoled her when she was heartbroken, who made her laugh even at the most trivial things. That was the person she should lock up in her memory.

In the middle of the living room, facing the television set, there was a large embroidered armchair. It was her grandfather’s favourite and he had exclusive rights over it. When she was very young, Ariana would crawl up in his arms right in that chair and fall asleep, after which he would carry her to bed, the nights she would stay over. Ariana loved her grandparents to pieces and now a full-grown woman she still felt the need for them to be present in her life. But when she witnessed that empty chair, something instantly cracked inside of her and she stood in the middle of the living room facing the chair, the tears streaming down her cheeks. All her reserved grief suddenly caught up with her. In a silent overwhelming flood of tears.

She placed a single red rose and a large stem of white lilies on the chair, securing that no one would sit there. This was his place and at least for that day it should remain so.

In time, she would manage to view it in a different perspective. But for that day she had to accept that sometimes it is better to grieve and let it all out. In the end, it is all part of the healing process. It helps you move on and never forget.

The Curse

flirty coupleWhen Lorenzo was a young boy, wild at heart, he met a girl on the train on his way back home from a weekend in the country. In his early twenties then, he loved to flirt and was a true heartbreaker. All during the train ride, they exchanged meaningful glances with the girl, discussed what they were doing and where they were from, shared their views about how they hoped their lives would be, and laughed a lot. By the time they arrived at the station, they both agreed it would be great to see each other again. The girl told him she was studying in a near-by town and he should call her so that they could arrange to meet up again soon. He carefully inserted her number in his phone and hit save.

Lorenzo lived twenty minutes by car away from the station. He took a taxi to get there and arrived half an hour later due to heavy traffic. What he didn’t notice until later that night, however, was that he had dropped his phone in the taxi. He had lost his device and everything on it, including that girl’s number.

What he never realized until years later is that this incident would haunt his very existence.

Since then, every time he made plans to visit that particular near-by town – which was coincidentally one of the country’s main attractions due to its architectural elegance and natural beauty – he would end up fighting with his current girlfriend, or having something extraordinary coming up work-wise, resulting in him never getting there. Eventually, he gave up even trying. He simply settled with the fact that it was just not his destiny to visit that town.

Little did he know that the girl on the train had been very upset that Lorenzo never called her – she had really liked him, and as every love-struck young girl, had already began dreaming of a relationship with him. So, she cursed him into never being able to set foot in her town. If he didn’t go there for her, he shouldn’t go there at all, she thought.

The power of a heart in love is immense, but the force of a broken heart knows no limits.

Getting through

getting-through

We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it
You think with no concern.
But when the time comes
You don’t even know how to react
Not even how to care.

Things change faster than you think
The world is flat no more.
All you can do is run and leap
To survive, to breathe and dream
No matter how you’re sore.

Nothing ever lasts, you find
Cause nothing is for evermore.
You can only hope to not be blind
To avoid falling face flat on the floor.

Emotions change
Love breaks
Hearts ache
Relationships cease.

But getting over something as deep
Is never an easy feat.
So all you can do
Is try to get through
Just to make that cut have a more bearable sting.

The singing nightingale

nightingale

It was as beautiful as the dawn of a new day,
But as fragile as the thinnest twig of a newborn tree.
It sounded as exquisite as the chords of a divine symphony,
But it alone felt the pain hidden behind each note.

The nightingale had a simple appearance
There were no extravagant colours adorning its feathers
Yet inside it enfolded a heart brighter than gold.
It could love as selflessly and unconditionally as no other,
But that, no-one would ever know.

For unrequited love is the most terrible of all.
It never thanks you for the rose you painfully and bloodily gathered,
It never recognizes how you long for their companionship,
It can never acknowledge the actions they never saw you take.

So the nightingale sings.
It sings to soothe its broken heart.
It sings in the night to express its sorrow.
It sings when it can hide in the dark.
It sings in the hope that things will change tomorrow.

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