There are quite a few things that feel like it literally breaks my heart into small pieces with very little chance of being put back together. It can be a well written story, it can be from something said to me, it can come from the sounds of sadness I hear from someone I care for deeply.... the list is long and there is really no cure to having feelings. It is not in my nature to remain stoic or to mask my feelings. Emotion runs through my veins.
I truly believe that my ability to come apart so easily stems from lacking the necessary control to contain it. In fact, I offer more of myself than needs to be because my level of love for everything is far too strong. It hurts to see that I have no power to fix everything... no matter how hard I try. Life has way too many angles to consider. While feelings are a personal thing, it is the level of consideration of others that make emotions far from solitary. How can a person fix every one else's problems when the first problem is their own? How can someone bring happiness to another when you cannot find your own happiness? How can I be the voice of reason when I lack the ability to reason with myself? How can I set the right example when I constantly choose to do the opposite for myself? How can someone look up to me when all I do is look down upon myself? Contradictions can not offer solid solutions.
The past two weeks have brought on something that I have wanted to share, but seem to be unable to do so. It opens up old wounds, it exposes secrets and memories that need to be locked away well beyond the coffin being lowered into the ground, and sharing these painful things have the ability to create more damage than good. I was never blessed with a perfect life, nor was I ever fortunate to be graced with good fortune. My life, like every one else's, is a thrill ride that rises and falls with sharp turns that instills fear, adrenaline, happiness, sadness, anger, jealousy, and contentment. Unpredictable as life is, we all have a journey to take that offers challenges as well as choices. Our existence hangs on the thread that is connected with the existence of others to thrive. We are truly never alone in this great, big world and we need each other to survive.
What makes the heart break so easily for me is the barriers that I cannot overcome to give a solution. Not everything is as easy as it seems since our lives are intertwined with so many others that surround us. The distance between people is really irrelevant. What is felt is what connects us while what we communicate can possibly push us apart. Expectations and judgement from others is what makes sharing this so hard for me. I really want to see if opening the wounds that have scarred over can release the pain buried deep within, but fear is what holds me back. I feel that I have the lack of strength and conviction to face the judgement of others since I know that I battle passing judgement in my own right. My past is my past. What happened to me is what molded me into the person that I am... the individual that shares my deep thought to the world through release from blogging.
Recent talks with DD opened some old wounds when I was presented a very difficult question to answer. Recent talks with a dear friend going through the same things as I have been going through in a late night/early morning phone call nearly shattered me. Hearing the sadness in their voice, seeing the tears in their eyes, feeling the pain that they share kills me a little each time. Trying to understand why DH acts the way he does towards me that is far from the loving man I married can be maddening, but heartbreaking nonetheless. The tone and affliction in a voice cuts just as deep as the silence when there are no words being shared. I do not expect everyone to be perpetually happy all the time, but my emotions will mirror theirs when I know that there is nothing I can truly do about the situation. Believe me, I fully understand how they feel... I wish my efforts were more helpful and it breaks my heart that it I know that it is not enough. The only reward for my efforts is that if I am successful in helping them, I get to know that my efforts, no matter how insignificant, helped ease them of their pain. I am willing to open old wounds to shed the blood of past memories to help others, but I just can't seem to fully release the whole truth about me for the world to see in order to heal my pain that festers within. Am I a hypocrite? Or a martyr? I want to scream to the world, but I just can't make a sound, and that my friends.... breaks my heart.
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