I was once told to describe heartbreak.

I think I did a hell of a job at doing so because the person remained shocked and speechless which resulted in my joy.

Heartbreak, is not like what most people would say, it is not like falling off a bike, like what most people think.

It is a slow, dulling, ache that proceeds to eat away your whole existence like a cancer (except you can of course cure this if you choose to but most people don’t)

It is a process of your heart being ripped out and sewn back in, a million times, until the pain is something you have to grit your teeth and tell yourself, “You will get through this.”

How does one get through such pain, such horror?

You don’t.

As much as you hold your tears back, as much as you try to numb the pain, nothing works. Believe me, I’ve been there.

And of course it doesn’t help if you see the very person who caused all the heartache, it is like meeting the devil himself.

You will be washed with memories from long ago, from the first time both of you met, to the very last time you spoke.

It will be painful, more painful that trying to rip your eyebrows out, again, believe me, it hurts a lot.

He will then say hi, and of course you will blink back tears, but tears of what? Sadness? That you still love him so much? Or joy? That you no longer have to give a shit what he thinks?

You will of course shake his hand, and try to laugh an awkward laugh, and both of you will catch up, and you will realize again why you fell in love with him in the first place, the way his eyes crinkled in laughter or his forehead creased in concentration.

Both of you will discuss old times, and you might think to yourself, hey, maybe we could give us one more try.

But there are no “one more tries”. Not in this world, not in any world.

Because when you start to bring it up, he will pick up his ringing phone and he will answer and he will tell you that he has to leave to pick up his new girlfriend, and he will say that he wants to see you again to talk more and be friends.