A Broken Heart

Yes, therapist. I have a broken heart. No...not the feeling of being crushed by a boulder, when you're rejected by a crush. No...not the feeling of...realizing you're no longer the young person you used to be. Not the feeling of your youth peeling out of your soul. No...not the feeling of losing your mother in a raging hurricane. No...not the feeling of your dream being crushed before you...the greatest of the greats, wagging their fingers, with a condescending glint in their eyes...their silhouettes dissappearing as I blink. No...not the feeling of dissapointment. Not the feeling of giving all, expecting some, and losing more than you realized you have had. This broken heart has been destroyed from within. This broken heart cannot be fixed if I gave little, expected some, and got all that I ever wanted and more. This broken heart cannot be fixed if my dream was realized. The greatest of the greats, becoming the news of yesterday. This broken heart cannot be fixed if my mother was sitting beside me, as loving and merciful as ever. This broken heart cannot be fixed if the days of youth came back to me, long and strong as ever. This broken heart cannot even be fixed if my crush came from behind and gave me a hug. Sure...those little things are very nice. They might even make me smile for an hour or two. But they could never extract the disembodied, envious voice that tells you that you don't deserve anything.