What It’s Really Like To Have A Broken Heart

image - Flickr / ht
image – Flickr / ht]

A lot of people say having your heart broken is like someone ripping your heart out of your chest. It is so much worse than that. Having your heart broken feels like someone trying to rip your heart out from wherever they can access it. They beat you in the stomach, they rip at your throat, they pound on your head, but eventually, ripping your heart straight out of your chest is the only option. So they do it. And then they squeeze your heart and they throw it around and step on it and tear it apart with dull fingernails. They rip it to shreds and just because it’s no longer in your body doesn’t mean you don’t feel all of this at full intensity.

The pain becomes overwhelming so you scream and cry at the hurt that is happening to you. Everywhere. Everything hurts. There is a physical pain: constant headache, burning eyes, an honest-to-God ache in your chest, nausea, body soreness. There is a mental pain: constant questioning of him, yourself, the situation, rethinking every nuance of every phrase said and every event passed, over thinking to the point where your mind is a constant buzz of nonstop action without any focus. You flip between hating him for hurting you and hating yourself for letting it happen.

Dealing with a broken heart is a lot like being trapped underwater. You struggle a lot at first, learning to hold your breath, often faltering and getting lungs full of water, choking until your whole body burns. You try to find the surface because you don’t want to hold your breath anymore. It’s hard and painful and you want a reprieve. But you can’t seem to find the top. And you struggle some more and your lungs cry out, you cry out, for anyone to help. But eventually you resign to the burning and the lack of oxygen and you allow yourself to just drown. When you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom, suddenly you’ll start to float up. Nature takes over and you gasp a fresh breath of air right before he kicks you down again, foot to the gut, and you fall lower. You never hit rock bottom before, because this is much worse. You struggle again and it hurts more even when you thought it wasn’t possible to. I imagine this keeps happening and I’m not sure how it’ll end. I’m still drowning, occasionally resurfacing only to be pushed further into heartache. I want to stay afloat but succumbing to the water seems to be my only option now. I am lost and there is no way I can find the surface on my own.

I loved everything about this boy. I loved him even when he built me up just to tear me down. I love him now even when it’s his foot in my gut and the burning in my lungs is pain caused by him. I knew him one month. One fucking month and this is what he’s done. More than anything I want to hate him and I want him to be as heartbroken as I am. But I cannot wish this upon anyone, not someone I love nor someone I hate. All I can do is pray that one day he will let me find the surface on my own, stand on my own two feet, and move to dry land. I can only hope that one day he can allow my pain to dissipate and allow me to feel whole and normal again. The worst part about drowning is that you cannot do the saving yourself. I have given in to the fact that certain pieces of my heart were torn off and lost and I have given in to the fact that, though I love him, he is as lost to me as these pieces. But for right now, I’m still struggling to hold my breath and I’m still choking on water and I can only wonder if I’ll find the surface soon. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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Jillian Bishop

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