Dislocated

How many times in the past have you heard someone that they are “broken hearted”. Their hearts were broken into tiny bits by someone or something which happened in their lives.

Having one’s heart broken equates to a lot of sleepless nights, buckets of tears, marathon phone-calls-cum-therapy-session with friends, and bottles of San Mig Light, or nights spend with good ol’ pareng Carlo Rossi.

But what exactly does a “broken” heart mean? Broken means having one’s heart cut into irregular pieces, usually with the edges left rough and uneven. You cannot have something “broken” into smooth and even pieces. Breaking something equates to mess, chaos and confusion.

Having said that, I think I’ve only broken my heart twice – one with Guy # 1 (Spaghetti) and Guy # 3 (Liquid Seasoning). Confused? See my previous entry for explanations.

After Guy 3, I think that my heart decided to be unbreakable. This guy broke my heart into the smallest possible bits, leaving the most uneven and jagged pieces. It was so rough and jagged that I thought I would not be able to put back the pieces together. I did eventually, but not without tears, sleepless nights, and lots and lots of drinking sessions with friends. I wanted to drown myself in anything which could give me a temporary high.

After that horrible, horrible experience, I felt that my heart turn into something stronger, tougher almost unbreakable.

I still do feel pain and disappointment. But I would certainly not say that my heart is broken. I would say that after those dark ages, my heart became “dislocated” a few more times. I feel pain, but I know my heart’s still there somewhere, complete and unbroken. But it feels odd, because it doesn’t feel right. Somehow, my heart is not at the right place. I feel squirmish and uneasy because my things are not in order… unsettled.

Having one’s heart dislocated is far better than having it broken. If you had your heart dislocated, you know that in time, it’ll pop back into place, as good as new – nothing missing, nothing damaged.

Yes, at the moment, my heart is somewhere where it should not be. It is somewhere in the middle of nowhere, looking for something which can propel it back to where it should be… waiting for that energy to push away this lethargy. So here I am, sitting… waiting… wishing for my heart, and for my whole life, to “pop back” into place.

12:20 pm
24 Jan
Quezon City
(home sweet home)