Hi, my name is Holly and I have a broken heart. It's a pretty big crack--right down the center. And it hurts. All sorts of heavy, emotional stuff has been whooshing out from that crack these last two weeks. But interspersed with those bouts of tears from the heartache are these dazzling glimmers of light. That's the hope and the possibility and the potential shining through. It continues to catch me off guard, this beauty in the breakdown. I decided at the outset of this heartache that I wouldn't fight off my feelings. Instead, I wanted to own each and every emotion, each and every tear, each and every gaspy sob. Letting my emotions run free has been the most liberating feeling ever. I've always been the type to get embarrassed--exasperated and angered, too--over my emotions. Somehow, I had it in my head that even-keeled (read: kinda numb) was the ideal--and that fluctuations were imperfections. And my god, I couldn't handle letting my imperfections be so blatantly seen. My freak flag has always been neatly folded and buried in the back of a drawer.
It's this heart of mine that has kept me from writing as much as I've wanted--as much as I've needed to--over the years. I've been denying my emotions the freedom and the space they crave. They need. If I couldn't write something "perfect" and positive, then I just couldn't bear to share it. With myself. With you. With the world. I'm breaking up with that bad theory right this minute.
So, hi. Yeah. Umm, here I am. It's not pretty, but it's real. And I've got stuff to say. Oh, do I have stuff to say. It has been far too long . . .
This heart of mine has been through a lot. But it'll only be better--more resilient, more receptive--for the experience. That crack will fuse together and my heart's walls will become pliable again. This heart of mine will know no limits.
