Tuesday, September 22, 2015

How I wish there were painkillers for heartbreak




Heartbreaks suck. They hurt too. They hurt more than physical pain. You see, physical pain can be numbed by painkillers, not heartbreak though; it is inescapable. It even follows you to bed and torments you. ILLUSTRATION | JOSEPH NGARI
Heartbreaks suck. They hurt too. They hurt more than physical pain. You see, physical pain can be numbed by painkillers, not heartbreak though; it is inescapable. It even follows you to bed and torments you. ILLUSTRATION | JOSEPH NGARI 

By NJERI MAINA
Heartbreaks suck. They hurt too. They hurt more than physical pain.
You see, physical pain can be numbed by painkillers, not heartbreak though; it is inescapable. It even follows you to bed and torments you.
That sudden whiff of perfume that sends bittersweet memories running through you. Those once beautiful memories which though still beautiful, send an aching longing through you. The dress that remains hidden at the back of the closet since seeing it elicits deep, silent, heart-wrenching sobs that make the heart want to get out of the throat and run. That song on the radio, that building you bumped into each other, the traffic light you two jumped in a moment of madness, the silly, the incredible, the simple, the mundane. They all become a litany of reminders that you could do without.
Many cope with heartbreak by becoming cynical. Never again fully trusting. Never going all in, always settling for half measures. This I understand. The need to protect your heart so it never hurts like it did the last time. It is a bad place to go to, so you avoid it by all means.
But it also means that future love will never be passionate or zany. You convince yourself that moderate is much more preferable to the pain that almost physically debilitates.
HEALING MANUAL
Others go full on. They hit the highway, step on the accelerator and hit as many as they can. They try to outrun the pain by leaving as many bleeding hearts as possible. They make everyone suffer for the mistakes of that one. This is a good road. A good road fraught with many potholes. This is when we most need a guiding hand. Someone to help drag us from the murk. Someone to help us stop self-sabotaging.
So you say time will heal everything. That I should cry it all out. Problem is, I am afraid I might drown us both before I run out. Problem is, I will feel better for only a while before the next whiff of that familiar scent.
Truth is, all I need is a hand to hold on to. An ear to listen to my sob story as I retell it for the umpteenth time. Maybe told more unintelligibly this time than the last due to the crying. So give me all the helpful information. Given time and several sob-induced headaches, I will emerge on the other side. Everyone has their own way of coping. Mine will be working so hard and working out so hard, that all the energy left after a day of both will just be enough to squeeze out a few tears before sleep filled with haunting memories takes me.
 I write this hoping that it will mend an aching heart and stop the tears from flowing. I type it out as a reminder that I should bridge the gap between the past and the present. I am also trying to find a manual of how best to cope and what to do with an aching heart. Truth is though, there is no manual for getting over heartbreak. 
In fact, there is nothing like getting over heartbreak. You just learn to live with it. To touch the scar and marvel at the beautiful ugliness of it. You learn to smile despite the scar. So, as my red eyes start drooping from exhaustion and as my cheeks cake from endless tears, I pray.
I pray that I emerge from the other side more resilient than ever. Capable of loving as furiously, feeling as much and hopefully saner. I hope I get out of the other side maybe not wiser, but at least stronger, after all, it does get better with time, doesn’t it?

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