Broken Heart

You can very broadly categorise girls into two types, one that believe that the world is fair, there is beauty about everything that you can see and most importantly that there exists this heavenly emotion called love that is undoubtedly meant for everyone and that sooner or later they too would find that perfect person they were meant to be with. And then there is this other kind who think that it’s a big bad world out there where no one (and certainly not Prince Charming) would come and help you out if you ever were in distress, that it’s a world where you must know how to defend yourself or you shall perish like the million others that do every day.
Being an idealist since as far back as I can remember I happened to fall in the former category. And not just that, I used to be incredibly proud of it too. I would often give these long ‘inspirational talks’ about how god is just and kind; how there is a balance in everything that exists and how it is so absolute that good things happen to all people. (Yes I was greatly enthused and moved by all the novels I had read.)
This faith only strengthened when on my seventeenth birthday my best friend proposed to me saying how much he loved me and how he could feel it to his very core that we were meant to be together. Until then I hadn’t known that the feeling of happiness could be so powerful, so ecstatic that it could actually bring tears to your eyes.
The following two years were the best in my life. We ended up in the same college and almost all the same classes. The feeling of being in love was ethereal. It was like I was constantly supported and protected by some invisible shield and that somehow nothing wrong could ever happen to me again.
Only it did.
I can still recollect that time easily, as if it had happened yesterday and not sometime in the distant past. It is still so clearly etched on my mind because of the deep wound it inflicted on my heart and the scars that are still unhealed.
On the 2nd of august two years ago, I found out that the very basis of all my beliefs, of my life was untrue. It was a myth I had conjured up in my own head. The one person I had cared for, worshipped and loved beyond sanity was snatched away from me. Yes, the source of all my happiness, the reason for my being no longer existed. I could feel life ebbing out of me.
I had always believed in a fair world, in a God who was just and kind. But all that had changed. I realized what it meant to be alive and that it was nothing but pain.
And now no matter how hard I try to erase those memories from my mind they seem to make only a deeper impression. Even now I can clearly hear his voice resonating in my head; I can clearly see the look in his eyes as they had bored into mine. Waves of memories from the past as they strike my already broken heart...break it in into a million pieces. Scattering them such that I would never find them together again, to be able to try and join them somehow. Even now when I close my eyes at night the silent tear that runs down my cheek reminds me of my heart that is no longer whole and shall never be whole. Sometimes the pain is so acute I feel like ripping my heart out, just to make it stop, to stop any kind of feeling at all, because the only emotion left in me is of pain, of loss...A feeling I’m now too weak and tired to feel.