We are so fragile. Ingrid Michaelson writes that we’re composed of “a cage of rib-bones and other various parts”. If you study the anatomy of our beating, pulsing hearts, she’s right. All we’ve got to protect our hearts is a few bones, some fleshy tissue, and a couple of muscles. That being said, the task of breaking through the barrier and causing destruction to the heart isn’t all that complicated. I think this is an appropriate observation to make because I have been on a lifelong pursuit to be fixed…to be no longer “breakable”. I suppose that by increasing the amount of protection, I can lower the likelihood of being hurt. But putting up barriers and walls is no way to fuddle through life. I’m not even talkin about the heartbreak involving infidelity and boxes of chocolate or binge drinking, but the type of breaking to the heart in which you lose a significant friend or loved one. As I sit here, I know I saw this all coming. As glass shatters slowly, and grows until it breaks out of pressure and entirely dissipates, the breaking of one’s heart is a gradually tormenting thing. It’s never quick. I knew this was coming, and shouldn’t have even expected to be able to continue giving love from every corner of my heart for much longer. Because as I said, we break easily. We’re paper dolls wearing and tearing from the expected struggles of living, and the rare, unpredicted calamities. We are so fragile.
It’s hard to truly grasp the extent to which things have taken a positive turn. Amidst the joy and excitement of so many great and exciting things, it is hard to accept it. If you were to imagine the course of my life as a small, thin line, it’d make more sense. See, I spent a lot of time in high school on the darker side. Just this past June I took such a daring plummit and came close to not even being a living, breathing, member of this world anymore. And six months later, I am so high off the exhuberating joy in life, that i’ll stop on my way to work or class and be brought to tears of joy. Why has my life been comprised of such extreme levels, whether it be extremeties of joy, or extremeties of sadness? And how could I have been so close to giving up my chance to do any single thing in this world. Because right now, things are great. Life’s headin in the right direction. I no longer have to put as much work into existing, or making it from the time I wake up to the time my eyes shut on the pillow of my warm bed. I’m okay. And I’m not in that bad place any more. Life goes on.
It’s a bittersweet life. I had an awesome weekend. I got to spend such wonderful time with someone I’ve missed dearly. I sat for days counting down the hours until my bus, and the hours until I’d once again be in the presence of this person. I stepped off the bus, and took a breath of relief, because seeing this person felt like coming home. Hugs. Laughs. Joy. It was a great weekend. But in the back of my racing mind was a ticking clock, taunting me. I couldn’t be entirely present, because I was so aware that this brief glimpse of time together, was exactly that. It was a weekend, and then I’d once again be miles away from my person. And that makes me sad. I sit and reflect on the great memories made this weekend. I feel teardrops as they make their way down my cheek. I can’t contain these emotions because it is one of the most difficult things to be geographically isolated from someone that means so much. And it sucks that it has to be this way. But then again, I guess a balance of radiating joy and sadness is what keeps the universe in appropriate proportions. There’s a unique combination of both love and loneliness, inevitable to us all. What a wonderful weekend, but what a bittersweet world. I’ll see you soon friend.