Dear Heart,

I'm writing you this letter to let you know that you will be okay (better than, actually), that feeling broken, tattered and a little bruised is all a part of the process; just as death is just a part of life, and not the end of it. It's really quite spectacular.

I know it's hard to understand now, but it truly did happen for a reason. It may take some patience, but know that the reason will be revealed and that soon after, even understood. And if you let it, it will leave you exhilarated with that beaming feeling of life and love and growth. So let it. It'll be more than worth the effort.

But please, make me one promise: allow it to make you better...not bitter. They may only be a vowel different, but they are worlds apart from each other in destination. And frankly, you deserve so much better than bitter. So much.

And lastly, I want to make you a promise: you will feel the flutter of love again. You will jump and flip and dance with the feeling that you live for, that feeling we all live for. And it will be great. So great.

You are that strong. You are that beautiful. You are that deserving.

Always yours,
Me

Peace (Piece) of mind.

The last month has been...
...overwhelming.
...emotional.
...stressful.
...intense.
...disappointing.
...hard to accept.

It has been a million different things. All of which on their own are exhausting...and together create a brain smothering cocktail that sometimes leaves me completely speechless. And useless.

The last few nights have lacked a large amounts of sleep. What they have not lacked, however, are countless, sometimes mixed up thoughts that leave me all shades of confused. Thoughts that, lucky me, render a girl unable to sleep.

(As if life wasn't rough enough.)

I'm sure they can be summed up. Explained thoroughly. Made to be understood by even the dimmest of intelligences...but not me. Not right now.

I have a constant feeling of being overly dramatic. Like I'm taking this too hard. Like I'm making so much more of it than actually is.

I live in a constant state of wonder and question. Like I'm a stand in for a play I didn't read the script for.

And I'm disappointed. All the time. The quietest moments of disappointment ring so loudly in my ears that for moments I am entirely numb.

Except for this spot in the middle of my body that seems to radiate a constant thumping of pain, a reminder of how much I feel was lost...
...trust.
...love.
...belief.
...hope.
...calm.
...security.

I know it's temporary. I know that yes, this too shall pass...it just doesn't always feel that way.

Sometimes it feels like it's going to swallow me up. Like all that will be left of me is the movement of dust that swirls around when something is moved.

I want answers to questions that I don't know even have answers.

And so then I wonder...what happens when questions whose answers could glue your heart back together don't exist? Do you go on to live in a permanent state of broken? Or do you one day come to peace with the things that will never be known?

Do you ever feel whole again?

Does the pain ever really go away?

Or is it just that eventually you grow numb to it?

And then, what happens when the one person that broke it all, still has the power to put it back together again? And reminds you daily (not maliciously, or even deliberately) of how full your heart felt for what seemed like an eon and just a second at the same time? What do you do when your only peace, also breaks you into pieces?

He is a peace in me and a piece of me.

What do you do? Where is the resolution? Why does it have to hurt so bad?

I know that my heart still yearns for him. Still pictures a life where the two of us are together. Wants to walk the path where our lives are interconnected and joined in something so beautiful that it unleashes butterflies in your stomach at the mere thought of it, forever. And ever.

And ever.

Is it possible for something to be so right...just not right, right now?

Is it silly to even wonder that?

To hope for that?

Because I do.

And it gives me a sort of peace.

And then breaks me into all sorts of pieces.