Sunday, March 27, 2011

The Mending Shed

Have you ever broken a bone? (Was it epic?) If you have broken a bone, then chances are you went to the doctor who took an X-ray and slapped a solid cast on you and told you not to scratch if it itches. (Everyone who's had a cast knows that the itching is almost worse than the broken bone itself.)

As much of a pain as a broken arm is (literally and figuratively), the fix is relatively easy. It takes time, but thanks to someone with more knowledge than you, you're bone will be whole again. No matter the amount of bones broken, or the severity of them, a doctor can make them better.

The same goes for computers. Your hard drive crashes. What do you do? You call up someone who knows about those things. (I call Nathan.) They troubleshoot, run diagnostics and then pinpoint the problem. He can then replace the part that needs replacing.




After your computer is fixed, it runs better than it did before! Computer guys are amazing.

The same goes for just about anything broken. You rip your pants so you ask a seamstress to sew them. Your phone breaks, so you take it to the company and get some help. Sometimes things can't be repaired so you replace them. Like when you're blender breaks, chances are you'll just throw it out and buy a new one. Same with a movie: the disc breaks so you buy a new one.

Then there are things that cannot be repaired easily, nor can they be replaced. For example, a heart. An arm bone snaps in half, and a doctor can fix it. Your hard drive gets a scratch, so a computer tech man puts a new one in. The pants get patched, the phone receives an update. But nothing fixes a broken heart.

When a heart breaks, it shatters. It is more fragile than glass, and by far less repairable. There is no expert on broken hearts. There is no one to run to for help. There is no replacement. Once it is broken, it is broken for good.

Normally, I let things just bounce off me, and I forgive easily, but there are times when I cannot handle it. Sometimes my heart is broken into too many small pieces to even be picked up. Like that photo, I can take the pieces of my broken heart and mold them into something shaped like a heart. It works for a while, but then someone will come along and have to touch it. Sometimes it's much more than a touch: it's a jostle or a tug or a shove. Sometimes it's on accident, and sometimes it's on purpose.

I can smile and laugh all day. But inside, I am not as cheerful and bright. Inside, I'm lonely, and lost. I miss my old friends. I miss being included. I miss smiling and laughing with them. But they shattered my heart and then walked over the top. I honestly don't care that they broke my heart, but I do care that they keep bumping the fragile profile of it. I don't care if they don't like me anymore, but I do care that they don't have the guts to respect me and tell me how they feel. I don't care if they party all weekend together, but I do care that they lie about it after.

All I want is to have friends that don't just walk out on me and then throw me under the bus. I pretend that I'm too independent and cool for that, but I definitely am not. I need that friendship. I need it a lot. I'm almost begging for it, but I'm too proud to actually beg.

I want to go to LA. I want to leave all these people behind and move forward. I want to make new friends, and keep them. I want to be respected. I want to be accepted. I need mending...

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