"...because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles..."

Saturday, February 19, 2011

corazón roto

Can we be honest? Not depressingly, dramatically, darkly honest.... but a little raw about the way things are. I realize quite well that it is cliché of me to be writing about heartbreak. Let me begin by announcing to the eyes reading this who are exhausted of watching people vomit their innards all over their blog: I'm not writing about myself, though I would eagerly step up to be included with the people who these words silhouette. They are real, strong and dangerous. And, I am proud to stand with them in the risks they take in life. 


People are deeply complex. My mind spun senseless words in a conversation tonight in which I pointed out I could never reduce humanity to the wonderings of my mind concerning the point of their existence, or the  possibility of their uselessness. Humans cannot fit within the boundaries of these questionings. Humans are so intricate that we are all but oblivious to what is really happening inside the walls of our own hearts and minds, let alone attempting to understand the ebb and flow of another's thoughts. They cannot be deconstructed. They can barely be understood. And they can hardly be trusted. Yet, they are beautiful. 


So we pursue other humans, wanting to be a part of their beauty, their stories, and in the reflection of their lives. We find our friends, we find our enemies and we find our lovers. Our lovers we grasp onto, because in them, we see the hope that someone belonging to our present physical world will spend their lifetime listening, cherishing, fighting, searching, wandering, and living beside us. Perhaps some of us have even reached the point that even if we never find the spark of "true love" we would at the least find someone willing to live the rest of their days out, exhausted, laying next to us. So many do find someone. And then so many times, we realize that human is not someone we want to watch the time march by with. Worse, they decide that we cannot pass their days with them, for countless, various and inconsequential reasons- the result is nearly always the same...


Heartbreak. I look into the eyes of those bewildering humans who have become my friends and there is  a little bit of light that goes out in their passion in the midst of heartbreak. You do not talk the same anymore after you have your heart broken. There is an aged wisdom in the youngest of children who have experienced a heartbreak. While their adolescent faces betray them,  uttered words could fool that they have seen things beyond their years. In heartbreak we are beat down, yet we are pulled up into growing up. A tense and impossible paradox. Heartbreak strips us, makes us feel like we're starting over, yet when we come out on the other side, we look back at the mountain range we've crossed and feel that metaphysical years have gone by. We come out wiser, but more somber. Joy is more precious, but love is more fragile. We know what we have to give- so much to offer, but we know what we have to lose- so much to risk. So, they are the brave ones. Sometimes the stupid ones. But everyone wants to love and be loved. Heartbreak will be.  


I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. 

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky. 

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes? 

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. 


-Pablo Neruda

1 comment: