Out From Under

Time

Heads up!!!
This isn't a poem but nonetheless I wanted to publish it so that you can all read it!

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They say time is what heals all wounds.

So naturally when you broke up with me I went to Time to see what he could do about my broken heart. It was all so sudden the way you left. You said that maybe we can revisit our future one day but you could no longer do this anymore. As you walked away without looking back, I bled to death. Clutching my chest and gasping for air. I've heard of break ups like this but this is the first time I ever experienced one like this. So there I was in the middle of the street with my heart pulsing slowly next to me. I forced myself to get up and I walked to the hospital waiting for someone to fix this mess.

Then he called me in. There was the almighty and great Time. The one that people claimed to heal everything. He tried to distract me momentarily with small talk as he tried to push my heart back into my chest. But I saw it. My heart was all destroyed. You really did a number on it when you ripped it out of my chest. He did a good job though in that moment with closing up my chest. He sent me home but the wound was still fresh and raw.

I was angry. At you. At Time. At me for being so careless with my heart.
I mean Time has a reputation, no? Why am I still in pain? I thought he was supposed to just magically heal me. But here I was in bed unable to fall asleep because my chest ached. It felt like I had a burning gaping hole where my heart is.

It's been two weeks since you left me there in the middle of the street. I'm back in Time's office. I know he's tired of seeing me. I keep badgering him on when this pain will go away. He said my heart has been having some difficulty healing so he wants to put it in a jar so it can heal on its own without me. He said to check back in with him in two months so that he could put it back inside of my chest.

So here I am walking around with a jar that holds my heart. I don't go anywhere without it. I'm no longer in pain but I feel this vacancy within me. I miss my heart. I don't scrutinize my healing process. I learn how to care for my heart while it's in this jar. Every morning and night I have to clean out the jar to prevent any infection. I have to carefully clean my heart. Put it over ice while I'm cleaning it so that it will remain fresh.

It's been a month now and I'm used to this routine.
I think my heart is stronger. The cracks have been going away. The pulse seems to be stronger. Louder. The way it once was before I met you. Carrying around this jar no longer feels like a burden. It's almost as though we're friends. I'm used to this.

It's been two months and I'm scared to have my heart placed back into my chest. Time says it won't be a painful procedure but that's not what I'm afraid of. My heart originally looked dull and withered and empty. Two months of it being in jar has my heart looking vibrant, full of life, and new. And I can't help but think about how I mistreated my heart and took it for granted. I can't help but feel like the reason why I'm in this situation. So as he placed my heart back into my chest I remind myself to never let my heart get this way again.

There's a little scar on my chest now. The pain has faded. My heart beats strongly inside me. I feel alive and I haven't thought about you in months. That is until I bump into you as I'm walking home. You tell me you're ready to revisit our future and you almost had me for a minute there. But as you talked about us possibly catching up, the memories of the past few months flood the forefront of my brain. You weren't there. You were the one who beat down my heat. You're the reason why it took me months to heal what was broken. So I told you to stop talking and walked away.

I remember the promise I made to myself. I remember what Time did for me. At my lowest Time took my broken heart and helped me nurse it back to health and I won't let you break it again.