In Shuddering Silence

Wallowing in loneliness and sadness, I sank in it, deep, up to my chin. Candles burning in effigy surrounded a warm bath of my misery.

I thought I had gotten past this. I thought that the first time you took a piece of my heart and smashed it that I had stopped loving you this way. I thought I was able to separate and categorize my loves. My love for you was moved to a level that couldn't hurt me.

But love has degrees, not categories. While I tried to hold you at arm's length, you deftly stepped inside my personal space. You climbed back to the level where I was most vulnerable to damage.

Then you broke another piece of me.

You ripped out the stitches I had placed in my heart the last time and all the emotions came flooding back. Love turned up to 10. Heartache and longing took over. The tub filled with my tears, hot, soothing. I hadn’t shaken you.

And so I steep in shuddering silence until the new sutures set. I patiently wait for the emotions to ebb, the tears to stop, and the wounds to be closed.