Ready for a super cliche, super typical, song stuffed post?
If you’ve never read my “bio”, it’s located at the top-ish area of this blog, it’s a tab labeled “Meet That Quiet Girl”. You’ll see a very brief explanation of who I am, just the tiniest glimpse into the scars on my heart from careless people who earned my trust, got me to let them in, only to prove every fear I had, and leave behind a mess for me to clean up. I’ve spent years of my life trying to take down my walls, let people see me for who I am, learn to trust again, be vulnerable, wear my heart on my sleeve sometimes because despite all it’s scars, it’s beautiful. I’ve been fighting, with God’s help, to keep my heart soft, to keep it from growing cold.
I’ve been back-stabbed, betrayed, left behind, forgotten, rejected. And I survived.
I held my mom’s hand as she got a new IV put in, the day before she died. I watched tears stream down her face from the pain, but her hand was barely strong enough to grip mine. I watched the oxygen meter count down as she breathed her last breath. And I survived.
And last night, I looked into the eyes of someone I care about with every fiber of what’s left of my heart, and saw…emptiness. Listened to the words I was promised, assured, that I would never have to hear cross their lips. Seven years of friendship came crashing down around me, and all I could think was, it’s happening again. I can’t go through this again. I can’t loose you. I can’t survive this again. You promised me you were different, you asked me to trust you.. You lied to me.
How many times can a heart be broken before it’s beyond repair? God’s answer is that nothing is impossible in Him. And I know that to be true. I fight the old nagging voices, telling me that by now surely I must know that no one can be trusted. No one stands true to their word. A promise is a promise, no matter how much time passes, it remains.
I don’t make many promises. “I promise” are words I use very rarely, very exclusively, because of this. And when so many have been made to me, and so many broken, it becomes so hard to trust.
I’ve never understood why heartbreak can cause actual, physical pain, but I assure you, it does. It feels like a sickening heat in the depths of my chest, at the base of my lungs, burning. A heat that chills your bones and makes your lungs shudder.
As I was at work today, feeling this, unable to focus on my work, my thought storm was interrupted by a compliment from the patient I was with.
“You know, you have such a kind spirit. A very soothing countenance. I can tell you’re a very kind and thoughtful person.”
Tears welled. How is it that a total stranger can catch me in my worst moments and see something worthwhile in me, yet the ones I let into my heart seem to find it so easy to leave?
Later, from coworkers today;
“You’re beautiful, you know.”
“Everyone needs someone like you in their lives, you’re such a genuine, kind, calming person.”
But I don’t feel like that person right now. I just feel deadened, chilled from the inside out. I don’t even feel real, as if I’m just a figment in someones imagination, and they’ve stopped writing my storyline.
These songs that I’m sticking in random places here are ones I’ve always felt connected to, with what I’ve been through. They always seem so relevant. And listening to them holds me back from letting my mind twist itself into an endless knot of frustration.
So, there you have it. A cliche, “my heart, ow” blog post complete with songs that support the emotional state of the blog writer. Oh so original.
Nevertheless, here it is. The temperature of my heart. Injured muscles feel warm to the touch, but my heart burns with ice. Maybe it will grow warm yet again one day… Maybe.
That Quiet Girl You Sort-of Know 