Would you hold him one more time? Knowing he’s dying inside, for someone else, for something above…you.

It’s the same old story, but today I’ll give it a new glamour. A revamp, a new rhythm. Because he came crying in the rain, too weak and too tired to care about the arms  he’s resting his lonely soul into.

It happened to be me, the one with open arms and wide smiles. The one who chose to be naive, blind, fool and helpless to his never endless sadness. It’s me, you know? It’s this mask of inner strength and happiness that you’re always searching.

Like a helpless child, like a sinking boat, like a leaf in a tornado. Too sad and too lonely to even notice. Too desperate to even care. About the heart that’s holding his crying in the darkest night. About the eyes that rose from ashes. But hey, today we’re changing the story…so, what about…

Let’s start again!

He came to me, crying in the rain, crashing into my loving arms.

Who are you crying for? Is it me?

What are you dying for? Is it us?

Where is your road leading to? Is it back home?

He nodded and mumbled something like…”you wouldn’t understand.” And I said “just try me, I’m smarter than I look!” So he looked at the white wall, with white eyes and white heart. (Black heart…) and asked me:

“Would you hold me, knowing my heart is broken? For someone…”

Sssshhhhtttt! Don’t even go there!

I wiped away his tears and I ran my fingers through his hair. I kissed his lips and I put my arms around him. Then I took one step back.

Absolutely not. 

That’s what I said, smiling.

My dear…I did it a thousand times and look what it has done to me. You see the scars? You see the ashes? Do you see the place where this love threw my soul away? Into hell…and back, an endless spiral of pain, misery and self-hate.

And I’m not a half-woman to love a half-man. I was born complete and perfect and free! I am more than a refuge, I need more than the crumbles of your affection. 

So, come back to me, my love, when you’ll be whole again…

Because this is not a mask. This inner strength is real. And for the first time, I’m keeping it!



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14 thoughts on “Knowing his heart is broken…

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