Saturday, 04 June 2011
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Closed Fist: The Price of a Healed Heart
Today, my first free one in months, I found myself skimming through an old journal, which is something I almost never do. It was the journal whose last page I filled only a week ago, which makes me feel fondly toward it, since I rarely finish journals. For some reason I get to the last five or ten pages, put it down, and never pick it up again. Perhaps I have subconscious finishing-anxiety, or perhaps it is simply that I am always finding journals in shops that I wish were mine to write in, so I end up buying a new one before the old one has been bidden its proper adieu.
But I digress. The only point is that this journal is a journal of my recent life, and as such has next to nothing in it about the man who broke my heart three years ago.But, because heartbreak lasts a lifetime, and because we kept in touch as (the closest imitation of) friends (that is possible in such a situation), I was bound to find his name eventually.
The original entry was written in September, immediately after I had spoken to him on the phone for an hour, for the first time in a year and a half (during which time we probably only exchanged three or four emails). It said:
In truth I was anxious, as recently as two weeks ago, about coming back to this city and seeing him in person or hearing his disembodied voice on the phone again. But talking to him just now was almost painless. In fact, all the way painless. So painless it's like it barely happened.
At the time that I wrote the words, I remember feeling oddly jubilant; thinking that I had finally healed; that I had moved forward enough to be unruffled by this man who once managed (inadvertently) to devastate me more times than I ever thought possible.
Then, underneath the original entry and in a different color ink, I read: Is this progress? To move from intense feeling to no feeling at all? To move from love to its opposite?
Because, as they say, the opposite of love is not hate - but indifference.
Reading my own words threw me. He is the only man I've (yet) loved, and I felt very certain for a very long time that the searing ecstasy of that love and heartbreak would keep the innards of my chest aflame forever and ever.
And yet. Here I am, three years later, all better. My heart no longer burns, or even aches. I rarely think of him, and when I do it is in an abstract sort of way. And I am seeing someone new, someone I like a lot...
... Someone who tells me, every so often when he is feeling frustrated, that I am like a closed fist, guarding my freshly healed heart in the safe clamp of my ribcage - forever in control of the most precious part of myself.
No cute little question for this one. Feel free to share your reflections below.
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About the Author
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- From: ThatBirdisAbsurd
- About Me: I just moved to New York after studying and living abroad for five years in Canada, Europe and India. One amazing thing about being back in America: knowing EXACTLY how to say what you want to say, RIGHT when you want to say it. English makes dating a lot easier.
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Comments (7)
i'm having a similar problem :/ i just got into a relationship with my friend and he's amazing but i haven't acted at all any different from when we were just friends (no physical stuff but that's cause it's long distance). i constantly feel scared like if i open up and act like a girlfriend i'm gonna mess things up and i know it's cause of how hurt i always get in previous relationships. i'm his first gf too... :(
haha i too never finish diaries for the exact reasons! i always find another journal i love and start anew. on the closed fist thing, i completely understand. there is one guy that changed me forever. i didnt realize it til later on but he did. in new relationships i may of loved but i never loved them like i loved him. in dating now, i keep my distance though i dont mean to. i suppose its cuz i am trying to protect all the work i have done to piece myself together again. though i know one day ill meet a guy who breaks down all my barriers. but whatever. lol. heartbreak is a natural part of life. cant hide or keep up a barrier forever.
no reflections. only a wow :)
it's easy to fill that hole. all you need to do is see someone new. i think you wouldn't feel indifferent about that guy if no one else had come along in the meantime.
our way of doing things in this department is incredibly fucked up.
op: i get the impression you don't read the comments--since i think almost every other writer responds to the ones left on their posts--but if you do read this, it would be nice to hear a post on that last sentence of yours.
My first boyfriend said that I don't let people in all the way; that I have a wall around my heart. It may or may not be true.
But if it is, I don't know how to tear it down. Do you? How would you open your fist?
@TheNotoriousGOD@xanga - Trust that I read all the comments. I'll see what I can do :)
I can relate.
My last ex, in hindsight, had lied to keep our relationship to go from 1 month to 10 months and I know I had a lot of angst toward him in regards to his lies of wanting to be married, a wedding and a family (turns out he never wanted to have kids; if he told me the truth, we both knew I would have broken up because I didn't want to waste my time with someone with such a different want in life). I asked him, after we failed MISERABLY in being platonic friends (ended up getting more dating-than-friending), to don't call, email, facebook, text until six months later. I thought I would cry every day until he called me again six months later. But I got busy. I cried for about 2 days after the break up. Then I got over the depressive state, got a gym membership, cut my hair, went for a retail therapy, started to go out more often, volunteer in fundraisers and networked... Three months later, I was dating, having fun and was starting to really fall for someone else. Then another three months later, I forgot about the phone call that was going to happen any of those days....
Almost seven months after we decided to cut communication, I thought it was my bf calling me back so without checking the caller ID, I picked up. He said "hi, how are you?" I didn't recognize the voice so I said, "fine, who is this?" And silence. Then my brain clicked on and I actually had the most AWKARD conversation for total of 10 minutes. I used to think, when I thought about him calling me 6 months later, when we first broke up, I'd cry and get all emotional. I didn't. I wasn't interested. I didn't care. I wanted him to be happy but I wasn't going to be the one coaxing his words out to help him FEEL as though I was interested. Whatever ways of him communicating before, all those "habits" that used to bother me, came RUSHING back and I knew I didn't have to deal with it anymore. I bid him good luck with his endeveurs and I hope he finds happiness. Because I did. And that was the last time. Indifference is often received worse than hurt or rejection. I think the person on the receiving end kind of half hoping that you'd still FEEL something when you his voice on the phone is not a malicious desire, but to be remembered, to be loved and missed even for the mere second. But when you're indifferent, you don't even let them have that moment to feel what used to be reserved for them. I didn't cry. I was happy to be without him. His mood swings and dwellings, me having to coax him out of these dark times and coddle him some more... ugh... I don't do that anymore. I hope your way of healing and feeling indifferent toward your ex made you feel WHOLE and TRIUMPHANT. :)