"..When you are sleeping with a broken heart,
the waking up is the hardest part..."
Said James Blunt in that voice of his that makes you buy whatever he's selling. Last night, I had a terrible dream. I think, when you are sleeping with a broken-breaking heart, the sleeping is the hardest part. Because then you are haunted with all those thoughts but only now they seem so real. I woke up and I was shaking, literally. I could not go back to sleep. I was breathing fast and had to calm myself down
These broken strings
Causing a bleed
to the very hands that are trying to fix them.
So deep, so firm.
Through muscle they cut.
Bones they want to slice.
Dare you to care?
Enticed by music out of tune;
Cages your mind,your heart.
Your will slowly giving in.
Hues of confusion and uncertainty become your sight.
This is a piece I wrote about 6 months ago. Guess what? I was not just having a great inspired moment, I was expressing my feelings. I was trying to get to know this person who was hurting. Refer to my earlier blog "Ambidextruos". It wasn't going well, he had wall after wall, each thicker than the last. Someone said I am a fixer. That is why I wanted to get close to this person, to fix. So one day, out of frustration, I thought to myself
"why would he let me in? He is right to be guarded like that. I mean, don't I want this just for selfish reasons? Just to get my fixer's fix?"
However, I was so worked up about it that I realised I needed help, I needed to get away. This wasn't working.
I went to bed with just a bit of sadness, just a bit. The kind that gets you to tweet hings like
"In a whisper I said, dear heart, forgive me. I should have protected you from yourself."
Just a bit, the kind that makes you get to bed early and say no to supper even when it's something you were looking forward to. The kind that comes from realising, you might be feeling a little too much; asking questions and guessing answers. Somehow giving yourself the worst case scenario so that you are prepared. But I wasn't prepared for this dream. It was worse than the worst scenario I had come up with. It felt so real. It was happening in my bedroom, in my bed. When I awoke, I wanted to jump out of that bed, it reminded me of too much. I was shaking. I still shudder a little at the thought of it. I closed my eyes and prayed.
"Dear Jesus, help me.." that's not what I said with my mouth but its what my heart was screaming. My mouth just let my spirit take charge. I know all is well,
When you are sleeping with a broken heart, the waking up is the best part because then you get to start again, to move on, to heal.