Shot to the Heart

This afternoon, I had that way too familiar feeling of being hit in the heart.  I hate that feeling. I really do – and I hate it even more when it comes out of no where.  Like it’s being caused by someone else.

I tried to distract myself.  I grabbed my ukulele and started to tune it- readying it for play.  My friend came back – and started telling me about an amazing energy experience he had with a group of guys who were energy workers.  He talked about the feeling of cycling energy with them – feeling like everything stressful was leaving his body – feeling a peace he had not felt.

I cried.

He asked what was wrong – and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.  I felt like saying something would negate his peace.  But he came and put his arms around me – and let me cry.

When I could finally speak, I spoke about the energy connection I was now missing.  How much I had cherished having someone in my life who could just know that something was wrong – and ping me – and sooth me with their energy.  How much I missed having that connection – how much, at times, I felt lost by not having that connection.  Lost to the point where I don’t even know how to get my energy back in balance because I don’t know how to do it with someone who means little to me – it worked well because of the other connections we felt.

And as I cried – and he hugged me – I realized why my heart hurts.

It hurts because I will always care – it is who I am.  And I feel like the world is trying to tell me I cannot care.  That I should just tell him to fuck off as though those connections – those connections on so many levels are to be tossed aside.  That they should be negated due to the fact it ended abruptly – not ended because they were unhealthy or because it was destructive.  I cannot negate how I have felt – cannot negate what I do feel.

As friends who have come in and out of my life can attest, I still worry about them when they are gone. I still care deeply when they are gone. I still want them to be happy – want them to be supportive – want them to be healthy.  There are only a handful of people I have shoved out of my life out of anger – and those have been because the level of distrust – the violation has been so huge that they no longer could be in my life.

But this – sigh – this is not the case.

I don’t care how people feel – how people would react in my shoes – because, well, this person (me) would react as I continue to do.

With loss. With longing. With love. With caring. With worrying.

It is who I am.

It is how I am.

It will be how I always will be.

And what makes it all worse? The silence.

Sigh….the silence.

And the silence enforced by those “helping” me.  Because if they know me (and they do), they know that isn’t helping.

So today I cried. Today I talked to people who get it.  Then I acted goofy – played the ukulele – and tried to ground out the energy that was overtaking me.  And while some of it helped, my heart still reminded me it is not yet healed.  And even if it does, I will always feel the scar.

But you know what? The love was mine to give.  I do not regret my decision to give it – not one bit.

What do you think?