Heartbreak is your dog waiting patiently for the arrival that will never come and refusing to sleep anywhere other than on his pillow because once upon a time it smelled like him. It’s your dog kissing away all of your tears. Heartbreak is your son eagerly waking up to tell someone good morning who isn't even there. And your son asking to call him to tell him what a great day he had.
Heartbreak is the closet that was once overflowing being so empty that you can see the wall where his wardrobe hung. It is the sinking feeling in your stomach when you approach the house and his truck isn't there. It’s avoiding the living room so that you don’t have to face the family portraits on the walls but in the same breathe not being strong enough to take them down just yet.
Heartbreak is the lump in your throat anytime someone says his name. Heartbreak is the tightening of your throat indicating tears are about to fall. Heartbreak is feeling like someone is standing on your chest twenty-four hours a day. It's breaking down every darn time someone asks you if you are okay.
It's the inability to eat or sleep. And when you do sleep dreaming so vividly that you can almost feel him touching you and reaching for them when you wake but they aren't there. It is sleeping next to all of the pillows just so that the bed doesn’t feel so empty. It is just wanting to feel their arms around you again, with their fingers intertwined with yours.
Heartbreak is not being able to keep anything down, not even ginger-ale and saltines. It is not even being able to keep down your nausea medicine. Heartbreak is losing ten pounds the very first week without him and not at all in a way you're proud of.
It's not being able to picture yourself with anyone else. And not even having the desire to carry on a conversation with a member of the opposite sex, even if you know it is strictly platonic. Heartbreak is not finding anyone else remotely attractive. It's just the thought of him being with someone intimately or otherwise making you physically sick to your stomach.
It’s feeling like the rug has been ripped out from underneath you and your entire world has stopped spinning. It’s not being able to breathe when you see his name pop up on your phone. And never wanting to say the wrong thing when it does so that you don’t push him even further away.
Most of all, heartbreak is feeling like they meant absolutely everything to you and you didn’t mean a damn thing to them. True or false. Right or wrong. It’s knowing you would go to the ends of the earth for him and realizing that changes absolutely nothing. It’s praying every damn night for either a miracle or strength and healing.
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