hold me by the heart and rip me open

a work in progress. it will hopefully change every couple weeks :)

Can you ever really trust someone again... after they've hurt you? And I don't mean they told you a little lie, or accidentally punched you in the face (trust me, this happens). I'm talking about the real hurt... the soul-hurt, the you-just-drove-a-blade-into-my-chest-and-stole-my-breath hurt. How far does forgiveness stretch? And do wounds really ever heal?

A part of me says no. The realistic part of me says hell no- trust is forever severed. To attempt any future relationship is to guarantee a relationship filled with jealousy, suspicion, insecurity, repressed anger and spitefulness.

Yet then there's the other part of me... the beautiful part of me... the part that says "Of course it's possible." This part soothes me, assuring me that a deep love can heal the most jagged of wounds.

None of it makes any sense. I can expound on the subject for years, and it still would refuse to make sense. It's starting to seem like we eventually choose an emotion and we stick with it; perhaps that's what we call "growing up." It's merely giving up... on trying to figure it out. And since it's much more socially acceptable to choose disillusion, we choose disillusion. Anger and condescension are two other favorites. We choose to be jaded, rather than risk the chance of being hurt again and again.

But to choose disillusion... well, that is the biggest loss of all. This is to sacrifice our soul self. It is to concede that this is all life is going to offer me, and I have no right to dream any bigger, because I'm only going to get my heart broken.

... So what?

Break my heart. Break it again and again. I want to keep being broken until I'm merely a couple of teardrops on the ground. And then I'll absorb into the earth and be reborn. The point is I will be alive in the process of all this living I seem to be bound to do.

I feel as though I'm at a point in my life where the people around me expect me to sacrifice fundamental pieces of my soul in order to be an acceptable part of their society. Even some of the people closest to me seem completely taken aback during those rare moments where something wholly authentic and pure slips from my lips.

People look at me like I'm slightly insane - I've either been way too sheltered, or I'm lacking the necessary brain cells to function efficiently.

I am neither of these things.

Even though perhaps I'm a little crazy. If crazy means I believe that life can be more than paying the bills and marrying someone with education and money and being a size 6 and voting in the primaries and ignoring injustices and eating organic food and learning pilates and cramming so much bullshit into my mind that there's no room for authentic expression or a moment's time to sit and breathe and take care of my soul.

It would be so much easier to just shut off these thoughts and get in line behind everybody else. And I'm not saying that I know more than anyone else... or that I'm better than anyone else. All that I'm saying is that I'm at that point... the precipice everyone reaches at some point in their life.

The point where you choose to be safe, or you choose to be your Self.
 

To step back into safety, or fling yourself over the edge.

And I can't tell you which way this is going to go.

Reviews

[Father Mojo]

this is good. there's only a few stylistic changes i would make in the entire piece and that's only because, when it comes down to it, i'm so self-absorbed that i think that all writing should sound like mine. the substance, however, is flawless. i could challenge a few of your presumptions, like maybe the beautiful part of you is the pat that makes you want to give up and the unbeautiful part of you is the part that keeps making you go back for more, knowing how flawed and painful any relationship will be-that part has only tricked you into believing that it's "beautiful."

i doubt whether even i have become so cynical that i buy what i just said, but the point is that the strength of the piece is that it inspires thought and reflection and possibly even debate--it forces the reader to wrestle with the subject matter. and in the end, isn't that the best we can ever hope for as writers? it would be nice to be "discovered"; it would be really fantastic to be rich and slightly famous; but when it comes down to it, we write hoping to make some sort of connection with someone, so we don't feel like we are so alone and isolated.

authentic connections are rare and they are fleeting and the point of everything said up to this point is that i connected with this piece and i will give you the highest praise that i feel one writer can give to another: i wish i wrote that.

okay, i think that there is a review in there somewhere

[Kat_apult]

Hmm, very interesting peice! It is sometimes so much easier to just "go with the crowd" then to stop a moment and really figure out who you are and what you really want out of life. To take a chance and follow your heart, to follow your soul's calling, takes considerable challenge and courage. But it is definitely hard to hear that call with a majority of society screaming all the time, "Conform!"...but the alternative is not to ever take that chance on something, and that would indeed be the greatest life regret. You have made a very important point here! :)

[PureSyn]

Such a poignant and thought provoking piece. Everyone should take the time and sit with themselves to decide whats important in their life...not just follow what "they" say is the norm. For what is the quality of life, if you sacrifice your soul. We only get one chance at this living life thing. Take a chance...risk being hurt and giving your all for love. Anything less leaves you dying with many regrets.

You are a very insightful lady...I was captivated and moved by this piece. Well done!

Nicole

[Joseph - Michael]

Life sure got the funny ways for us to go through, but love is much crazier than that. It's pretty ironic how things turn out for better and for worse, yet we all learn from everything and try to move on. Here's my advice for you; Choose to be yourself. I'll be rooting for you if you pick that path...

It's all good here and I'm sorry that your heart had been broken several times, but look at the bright still, it's still beating, so you're still alive for some reasons...

[Natasha Ashway]

Your thoughts are crystal.

I like the free flow of what you feel and the questions on your mind. Not sure what exaclty you want to do with this - make it a poem, for example. It's like a journal entry at the moment, and I must say I love it this way.

I believe in love, and have done all my life. It's lead me down different paths, I identify with so much of what you've written completely because I've felt pretty much just the same. I had to forget about love for a while after I got really burnt by someone.
He gave me good inspiration for poetry though! I wrote a poem 'The Devil' about him - dedicated it fondly to my 'Prince of Darkness', put out cigarettes on the inside of my wrist, cried for nights - walking around with a brave face while I hurt and hurt without relief. It was awful.

And now the pain is forgotten. It's a miracle, girl! I have been loved and healed by somebody else.
Right now I'm scared about how precious this person is, I don't want to lose him, I get paranoid about how much power I may let him have to hurt me like the one before, even though they are completely different personalities.

But then there is also a calm knowingness that has settled inside me. The 'capacity' has been carved deep, and I swear, as an artist, I love it!
It's a cliche, 'you bleed just to know you're alive' the Goo-Goo Dolls sing, perhaps, but I LOVE to LOVE and so whatever happens, it doesn't matter. I'm coming to think having one's heart broken is a rite of passage into a deeper understanding and capacity of love of some sort! I would never have thought of it this way, as far back as a couple of months ago, but then everything suddenly got better - feelings-wise in my head. Even the b*****d is not that much a b*****d. He's not even a dog [was such a cheat, by the way]. He's a funny little puppy. And I'm not even jaded. I'm amused.

'hold me by the heart and rip me open' drew my attention immediately coz these words are such a dare in my own context.

I'm like 'hold me by the heart and rip my open IF YOU CAN!'

[Tim McGovern]

The emotions contained here could certainly become something, a poem, a short story etc.
They are universal, honest, and by writing this when you did you've captured the rawness and the tumbling of thoughts.
Sometimes it's hard to " get back" into that same state to edit/ rewrite it..but give it a few weeks and see how the dust has settled.
Everyday you awake one day wiser and see the world with new eyes.

[J Allison]

sad and wonderful

[Yvonne Heidt]

"Can you ever really trust someone again... after they've hurt you? And I don't mean they told you a little lie, or accidentally punched you in the face (trust me, this happens). I'm talking about the real hurt... the soul-hurt, the you-just-drove-a-blade-into-my-chest-and-stole-my-breath hurt. Does one ever truly recover from that? And can such a wound be forgiven?..."

I HAD to keep reading after that paragraph. Sometimes I think that I'm totally unique and no-one else has ever had the experiences that I did. Wow, you blew that out of the water.

I don't think that one truly recovers from that (me, anyway) I just had to move on to acceptance.
Doesn't mean that I don't think about it or it hasn't affected the way that I trust - it did.

I loved this piece, Kara. I read it twice - then read it again. Brilliant thought provoking message in here.

[[untitled]]

This is a nicely written piece. I felt torn and felt myself going back and forth as I read this which is the same way that the story is written. Its been quite a while since I have reviewed and actually commented on anyone's writing but this piece called for some attention. The words you used to describe the torment being felt as this was written is conveyed to the reader.

[justink :):)]

wow i like the way it is and how it is worded