open-closure
Although most of what we feel when we release someone from our lives, and try to let them go from our hearts is psychological or emotional, the physical effects of missing someone can be quite intense, too.
My own symptoms of heartbreak have ranged from something akin to shock (defined on WebMD as “a state of profound mental and physical depression consequent to severe physical injury or to emotional disturbance”) to feeling sick to my stomach to just plain grieving.
The worst thing is running into someone you still care about after it’s over. Talk about physical pain. There is one person in the greater tri-state area that really left a mark on your fair blogger. Even now, years and years after “it” happened, when I run into him, I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. I’m not kidding. It’s that kind of physical pain.
I have seen him around town and quickly walked away, rather than open myself up to the inevitable, banal chit-chat. The times I have been trapped into a conversation with him (and yes. It really felt like a trap.), I’ve either breezily answered his questions or gave tightlipped, one-word answers. Either way, I think I probably came off looking and acting really weird. It’s an awful mess, and I just don’t know how to straighten it out.
Because, no matter how much we say that we’ve gone on and moved on, sometimes, with some people, there’s still that feeling that maybe, just maybe, we missed out on something really special. That maybe we can still work it out. Open-closure, you might say.
I know it’s childish. I know, in my heart of hearts, those things like that, those happy endings, only happen in movies. And maybe it is my own, silly romantic feelings or maybe it’s because it’s a New Year and I have only good intentions, but… It’s hard to give up on someone when you have given them so much of yourself.
I’ve tried to reconcile with one or two people… a scant few who I really believe are special. People who have touched me the most. And inevitably, I start thinking about how I am such a prickly thing, “hard to know,” maybe, and how unbelievably difficult it is to find a soulmate, someone who really understands me. Someone who really cares.
But it ends up being a vicious cycle.
Of me getting hurt. Of the two of us bickering. Of misunderstandings piled on top of misunderstandings.
And I’m not so sure some fences can be mended.
My own symptoms of heartbreak have ranged from something akin to shock (defined on WebMD as “a state of profound mental and physical depression consequent to severe physical injury or to emotional disturbance”) to feeling sick to my stomach to just plain grieving.
The worst thing is running into someone you still care about after it’s over. Talk about physical pain. There is one person in the greater tri-state area that really left a mark on your fair blogger. Even now, years and years after “it” happened, when I run into him, I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. I’m not kidding. It’s that kind of physical pain.
I have seen him around town and quickly walked away, rather than open myself up to the inevitable, banal chit-chat. The times I have been trapped into a conversation with him (and yes. It really felt like a trap.), I’ve either breezily answered his questions or gave tightlipped, one-word answers. Either way, I think I probably came off looking and acting really weird. It’s an awful mess, and I just don’t know how to straighten it out.
Because, no matter how much we say that we’ve gone on and moved on, sometimes, with some people, there’s still that feeling that maybe, just maybe, we missed out on something really special. That maybe we can still work it out. Open-closure, you might say.
I know it’s childish. I know, in my heart of hearts, those things like that, those happy endings, only happen in movies. And maybe it is my own, silly romantic feelings or maybe it’s because it’s a New Year and I have only good intentions, but… It’s hard to give up on someone when you have given them so much of yourself.
I’ve tried to reconcile with one or two people… a scant few who I really believe are special. People who have touched me the most. And inevitably, I start thinking about how I am such a prickly thing, “hard to know,” maybe, and how unbelievably difficult it is to find a soulmate, someone who really understands me. Someone who really cares.
But it ends up being a vicious cycle.
Of me getting hurt. Of the two of us bickering. Of misunderstandings piled on top of misunderstandings.
And I’m not so sure some fences can be mended.
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