A broken heart.

This is about a broken heart.

One that has been broken far too many times. It’s the kind of broken that has you slide down a wall, in complete shock and awe. Now you are on the floor, and this noise is coming out of you that you have never heard before.

But you must keep the sobbing quiet. Because if someone saw you curled up on floor and heard you bawling, they would ask you what was wrong. And you would not know how to answer.

How do you say my heart has been broken and it won’t ever be fixed? How do you say that someone you once loved caused you this amount of pain? How do you pick up the broken pieces scattered across the floor? How do you get over someone you had heart to heart talks with into the early hours of the morning? You told them your hopes and dreams. You told them why you have your heart guarded the way it is, because people always leave. And they looked me straight in the eye and promised they would never do that. No matter what life threw at us, they would never leave.

But here I sit, with your number pulled up on my phone but I cannot bring myself to push the call button. Because I know you won’t answer.

h.