Dreaming With A Broken Heart

This is my new favorite song. Dreaming with a Broken Heart, by John Mayer. I am not big on musical artist and stuff, I just know what I like; I could careless who sings it.

As you guys know, I have not been in a serious, long term relationship in years, but this song brought back all of that old emotional heartache. I heard it, for the first time on the reality talent show; “So You Think You Can Dance” and have not been able to get it out of my head. Which is a good thing when you consider the song that I had stuck in there before was “Kobe, tell me how my ass taste.” Yeah, I know it is a sad state of affairs when it takes a sad song to get the thought of Kobe, with a teaspoon, telling Shaq that his ass needs salt.

A true broken heart takes a while to heal and even longer when the person that you thought you were so desperately in love with appears to get over it the next day. That fact just leaves you wondering if anything the two you had was ever real, or if it was all just a lie. But, no, it coundn't have all have been a lie, because your feeling and emotions were still valid. Why else would the shit hurt so bad?

This songs says that when you “Dreaming with a Broken Heart, waking up is the hardest part.” and I both agree and disagree with the sentiment. Of course, the falling a sleep in the first place can be a bitch. The longing is a monster. And don’t even get me started on the thoughts, that constantly play in your mind, on what the fuck you did wrong in the relationship. Oh, and the pain, let's not forget the agonizing pain. How is it that something as intangible as love can cause so much real pain?

Each time I had my heart broken I lost all my joy (and I am a very happy person) and either wept or wanted to weep (and I was the breaker upper in each case).

Quick story:

The very first time I was involved in a serious relationship that feel apart and left me an emotional wreck, I was in my early twenties and working in an office setting that required me to work with a high volume of people. I remember a young lady, she was actually much older than me, walking up to the counter for assistance. Everyone else was busy and I really can’t stand for people to be keep waiting for no reason. So, I get up and help her. I take her paper work, answer all of her question like I am suppose to do. I am not rude to her, just matter of fact, no personality, no sense that I gave a damn. The truth is I gave her exactly the kind of service that people expect from the customer service industry now aday. I didn’t even greet her with a smile. I was totally disconnected, but of course she was disconnected to. As long as I provided her with a service, I don’t think she could have cared one way or another about the quality of said service.

Still, I felt bad because I wasn’t given her all that One Man had to offer, so right in the middle of finishing her application I stopped and apologized to her. It was the weirdest thing. I just stop, looked her in the eyes and said; “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I am usually much friendly then this.” and I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. She just smiled and said, “that’s okay. We’ve all been there.” and she touched my hand. (Never a good thing to do-Just for the record, it is a very bad idea to touch my any part of my body, when I am mad or sad. The reaction you will cause will not be a good one).

Anyway, my heart is all healed up and I just allowed myself to get drawn back into another such heartache once more, before I decided that I could not take it. Couldn’t take the pain, the loss, the feeling of hatred and suicide. The need to want something back that wasn’t working in the first place. The loss of my smile. The absents of joy in my life. Love should not steal away your joy. There is just something wrong with that.

-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.

(Just a quick shout out to Misrepresent (Dimples) of WildFlowerII. That girl can write some deep poety for your ass.)