A heavy heart weighs you down in the morning

When your heart is broken, it wakes you up in the morning with a punch in the gut. Then it keeps you in bed all morning, between sleep and sleepy wakefulness.

I'm so hurt. And angry. The anger is lessening the hurt, I know. But then the hurt just makes me angry. And it's a vicious cycle of pain. I'm trying to be strong but I keep cracking.

Nothing truly momentous happened, not unless you were there, not unless you were me and you felt how I felt. For me it was pivotal. I need to let go of the positive illusions...the ones I possess, the ones I project. I need real. Real is scarier than comforting, safe and logical fake. Real is raw, real makes you vulnerable, real puts you out there.

I wish it wasn't so complicated. I wish there weren't so many vines between lovers to untangle and separate. Some knots are tied so tight that those ties need to be cut. And then what? Will I be amputated and haunted by your phantom limbs?

Can I do this? When? How?