Dear God, I think I Broke His Heart.

He was the sweetest thing,

no,

he is the sweetest thing.

Courtesy of Pinterest

I speak in present tense because within me, my mind still plays scenes of a world in which I had not done this. He trusted me to keep and tend to something so precious, so fragile, so beautiful. A piece of him that had been hurt before.

His heart he entrusted in my hands.

My hands,

Jaggedly framed, rough, from this journey called life.

My hands that failed to hold his heart with grace.

He was a sweet fragrance in my life, a scent I had always looked forward to calling my own, a mind stimulating pheromone. He was a passerby’s whistle as he strided through the ending day. He was a lesson that my stubborn ears turned away. He was a zephyr, gentle, kind, pleasant, and now, like a zephyr, he was gone.

The heart he trusted me with, my hands held tightly to. But, as the months went by, my grip loosened by every promise I could not keep. I fooled myself.

I thought I was capable of loving this thing in my hands but,

I broke it.

Soon, I learned his heart had attached itself to mine,

I was heartbroken.

As tears fell from his eyes, blood dripped from my hands.

He was shattered, and I was to blame.

I panicked, rushing to gather his pieces and put him back together.

But the more I tried, the more evident my wounds became.

I felt the weight of judgement befall me.

I had hurt one of God’s sons, someone God loved so dearly.

I tried to hide it, frantically rubbing his blood on my garments. My garments were stained, and everyone could see it. I begged of him, “can you smile for me please! Please don’t look like what I have done”.

How audacious of me to try to feign joy, when I had left him with none.

Shameful of me to try to cover my own back from this spiritual hit- and- run.

It taught me that I am not God, I am but a woman.

It taught me that he was not immortal, he was but a man.

A man with a heart, a heart that still beat the same way mine did. A heart that still carried hurt and fear, though it masked itself with bravado & feigned indifference.

It wasn’t until he tried to make me his god, pedastalizing me, that I realized, the higher they seat you, the more crushing the fall.

We all have, or have had voids, haven’t we?

Well, I learned I am not a void filler.

Temporarily, yes, we can distract eachother from the deep holes that exist within us. But, after a while, realization dawns. I am still here, and so are you, and guess what? The voids still remain.

The only filler of voids is Yahweh.

He placed me on a throne that never belonged to me, and like any idol that we raise before God, we give God the right to destroy it.

God had to destroy this so that we did not destroy ourselves. God is to be loved far greater than the love we hold for one another. If you have not loved God first, you will soon learn why He should never be the last.

Our hearts are safest in God’s hands. We are all humans, we are all flawed. Relationships are not our places of salvation. Mere humans cannot do what an eternal God can.

When will we take that responsibility off of one another, and give it back to He whom it rightfully belongs?

Breaking a man’s heart taught me that I am not perfect, and to a perfectionist, that felt like a mockery of my being, it felt like an undoing of my self- perception.

Breaking a man’s heart taught me that I was weak, and in that realization, I felt weaker.

I wish it never had to happen, but it did.

Breaking a man’s heart made us both run back to the altar where we belonged.

Breaking a man’s heart taught me that I am to run back to this altar endlessly if I do not want to do this life wrong.