I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers, and when it does, I won’t get it back.
It was a tear-filled conversation with a best friend and a trusted soul: I didn’t know how to lose the fear and anxiety surrounding reopening myself back up after years of heart-guarding. It was harder than I thought.
People, places, habits & tendencies, addictions– in the act of leaving of them, our tender hearts can bruise.
Heartbreak is, in its own way, trauma. A hit to the soul, a carving and cleaning out a space deep inside that once was filled, though imperfectly so.
Even if it’s the right choice, our hearts may crack anyway. Just because you chose to go, choose to stop, choose to leave, it doesn’t make it any easier.
She advised me to hold these things loosely– to cup my hands lightly, as though a small bird is resting its downy head on the tip of my fingers. Tread lightly, she said, walk softly– be gentle with myself and this beautiful, fragile thing, whatever it was I was worried about, just cradle it.
Because, like sand, if I squeeze too tightly it will all fall away.