Broken

Like the ridges of broken glass, like a hawk seizing prey, like the points of one thousand rapiers, the daggers of his words tore into my heart and made it bleed. Betrayal. Deception. And destruction. His actions did not speak as loud as his terrible crooked words. And a crooked sword is hard to dislodge and a bent hook is hard to pull out. So were his mangled words hard to extract from the mess that was my heart. I could ask myself a thousand times why, a hundred times how, and a million times Did he ever care about me? But the answers were torn from my heart when he ruthlessly plunged the crooked lies into my chest and withdrew it with my soul still clinging to the blade.

Was I foolish to assume that a heartless creature could love? That a man forged not of dust or clay or soil but of sheets of metal could have true emotions pulsing through his veins?

I still remember the words that he spoke to me, and they ring through my ears like the roll of distant thunder that crawls along the horizon. Or maybe it was the roar of the thunder outside? Without his guiding voice and gentle words I am completely lost in this torrential rain. The turns that I took on my journey, in my life, were carefully chosen and whispered to me with confidence. But now that voice is quiet and he has left me. For reasons I don’t understand.

Everything was flawless what seemed like mere moments ago. He was beside me for forever and he spoke kindly to me always. His gentleness and thoughtfulness was irreplaceable.

As I sat in my empty car, I didn’t know which way to go. A heavy rain beat upon my windshield and blocked out any view of the surrounding world. It was how I always felt without him, lost and secluded and alone. And he was gone forever this time.

I opened up the door and pulled myself out onto the cold downpour. I was on a bridge. I left the door open, not caring enough to close it and I walked to the where the sidewalk ended and the rail was the only thing preventing me from falling to a horrid demise.

I peered through the gloom and the rain to try and find some answers, any answers to where I was and what I could do now that he had left me. I leaned over the edge wondering what would could happen if he was gone. Maybe I was too trusting. If he told me to turn right when I was on this bridge, and I couldn’t see a thing, I could have fallen to my death. Or maybe he was the only one keeping me on track, keeping me from straying too close to the edge. I was so confused. I didn’t know where to go. I felt like I was crying, but the rain was running down my face and I was not sure if tears were intermingled with the rain or if it was the sting of the rain that I mistook for tears.

“What are you doing?” Someone shouted over the roar of the rain.

I spun around to face the voice, and then I knew there were tears on my face. “I’m so lost! I don’t know where to go.”

It was a man and he edged closer to me and I edged farther away as I clung to the rail.

“This isn’t the answer! Come away from the railing, I can help. I’ll take you to the hospital where you can get warm.”

“You can’t help me! Everything’s broken. He’s gone, and he isn’t coming back this time. I… I can’t fix it. I don’t know how.” I looked wistfully into the fog that loomed over the edge of the bridge. It sent a pain through my heart like a cold wind that pierces my skin. Suddenly a great force knocked me off of my feet as the man had tackled me. I cried out in surprise as we fell to the cold cement.

“Sorry!” he shouted as I heard sirens approaching, “I called the police when I saw you standing at the edge. I couldn’t let you jump.” The screech of tires and the slamming of doors and then I was hauled to my feet.

…

“I wasn’t going to jump,” I said with a wavering voice, “I wasn’t going to.” The officer that stood at the foot of the hospital bed looked skeptically at me. The man who had tackled me was to his right.

“I saw you at the edge. I saw the sadness in your eyes. Just because your boyfriend left you doesn’t mean everything has to end for you.” He clasped his hands together as if pleading with me.

“Wait,” I started, holding up my hands. I hesitated and once the heartache subsided in my chest, I spoke again, “This was not about a man.”

They looked at me in confusion and doubt.

“What was it about?” The asked almost in unison.

I looked wistfully out the foggy window. “My GPS broke again.”

WC: 886