If someone painted me, they would have to paint my heart outside of my chest.
It is hanging there, feeling, experiencing.
My heart processes everything first.
Then it gives it to my head.
Most of the time my heart takes things very personally.
It goes into a heartbreaking position.
I have been trying to get my heart further inside, behind the chest but no luck.
It gets hurt by misunderstandings.
It hears everything first.
And tells me all about it when it can’t take the pain anymore.
By the time my head receives the experience, it is almost too late.
Tears have taken place.
The end of the world feelings. Giving up moments.
I have been trying to get my heart to go further in but every time I push it in, it bursts out. Sometimes I hold it pushed in for a long period of time.
Maybe five minutes.
My head walks around thinking I have everything under control.
I can take the people, their words, their opinions and be ok with it.
I won’t let my heart outside again.
But I can’t even finish my thought before the heart sneaks back out.
Grabbing all of the people’s thoughts.
And all of the people’s words.
And the breaking begins again.
As the years go by I realize that the kind of heart I have is special.
Also strong. Also unbreakable. Because it knows when to give the hurt to my head.
It knows its breaking point.
It knows when it is time for my head to take charge.
Where we can make sense of it all. And speak to the heart.
Tell the heart it is ok when people don’t like us, or trust us.
Or even think of us as inadequate.
We know it hurts so much when we care about others and those others don’t care about us.
And this is why we tell you to hide a little, and stay inside so you can rest from all those heartbreaks of yours.
“But when I go further in, I can’t feel the air, or even feel the sunrises.” the heart responds.
“I can’t feel things the way I do when I am out here.
I would miss living. I would miss the flowers too.
When I go inside, I feel nothing.
And that is no way to live.
I must continue being an outside heart.
Have you noticed, most people have inside hearts. Those are the only people who try to break me. I need to show the inside hearts how beautiful it is to have a heart like mine. An outside heart. (Click to Tweet!)
I might bring them flowers.
Maybe then, they will come out to smell them.
Show them the sun rising.
Maybe then they will forget all their unkind words.
And be taken by beauty of an outside life.”
With an outside heart,
P.S. I had my heart broken this week by something someone said to me. If I had an inside heart I would not have felt much, but I would also not be able to write either. Not this way anyways. Thank you to all of you, my readers with outside hearts. I know there are so many of you out there.