Heartbreak

I've seen the word "heartbreak" thrown around a lot, especially recently. We're heartbroken when a relationship ends, we're heartbroken when a celebrity we admire passes away, we're heartbroken when Tesco has sold out of our favourite flavour of ice-cream. All sad situations, yes. All with different levels of heartbreak.

It hasn't been until really recently that I've finally understood what the word heartbreak really means. The whole experience has been exhausting, painful and completely incomprehensible. And at the minute, the only way I can think of to make sense of the whole thing is to write about it. Whether or not I post it remains to be seen. But maybe by getting it all out in words, I can start to work through it.

(Little disclaimer: I'm not trying to dismiss the way anyone else deals with heartbreak. I know it's a very personal thing and we all react differently. I'm just talking about what it's been like for me in the last couple of weeks.)

Heartbreak isn't sitting in bed screaming and crying and tearing up photographs. I mean, maybe there was screaming and crying for the first few days. But it soon becomes apparent that screaming, crying, or anything else dramatic you may do won't make you feel any better. Nor will it bring back what you've lost.

Heartbreak is like a constant dull ache right in the depths of your chest. This ache is relentless. There's no eradicating it, only numbing it for a brief period of time. Believe me, I've tried everything to eradicate it. I've thrown myself into uni work, I've done more hours at work, I've cleaned the house from top to bottom. Nothing has worked. The pain might stop while you're immersed in your task, or with friends who make you laugh, but as soon as the house is clean, or your friends leave, the ache is there again, no less fierce than before.

Heartbreak is feeling like you're on auto-pilot. You go through the motions, trying to get on with daily life. Everything seems to be going fine, until heartbreak stops you in your tracks and makes you break down. It's pretty good at doing that. And as much as you don't want to give in to it, you want to carry on with your day as normal but feeling like this is so unbearable, you don't know if you can even get through the next hour.

Heartbreak is realising what you took for granted. It's never wanting to see the person who hurt you again, but it's also wanting to see them more than anything else in the world. Just to see them. To memorise every little detail about them, to remember how it felt when you were happy, and to hold on to that until heartbreak loosens its grip on you.

Heartbreak is missing the little things. It's coming back to an empty house and finding that it's so much colder than it used to be. Or getting two mugs out of the cupboard when you're making coffee on a Saturday morning... then remembering that you only need the one. Heartbreak is watching a TV show that you both used to love and all of a sudden not being able to bear it because it just isn't the same. Or not being able to sleep on their side of the bed, just because it's still theirs.

Heartbreak is replaying the same moments over and over again in your head. Spending hours lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what you could have done differently. Going over the happiest times and being willing to give anything to go back to feeling that way again.

Heartbreak is knowing that your life isn't ever going to be the same again, and that there isn't a single thing you can do about it. It's knowing that you'll be okay in the end, but at this point in time, seeing no light at the end of the tunnel. For now, the only thing you can do is give yourself time to hurt and try to move on. Which is exactly what I'm trying to do.

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo