Reflections of a Mended Heart

Some days, certain things bring remembrance. The smell of an empty perfume bottle, an old cd you haven’t listened to in years or an old pair of jeans you used to wear relentlessly. For me, and my most recent heartache, it’s listening to John Mayer (no laughing). Before I left California, I’d listen to his album, Continuum, every day on the way to work. Riding on the BART with my own noisy silence, watching the sun come up from the platform in Hayward. I’d think about so much on that ride to work. Mostly D. About how we’d gotten to the point where we barely knew each other and I was packing boxes. Everything felt very cold and torn apart. Every day felt like walking into an empty room and sitting on the floor.

Now, I’m at my desk flipping through songs on my iPod and “Dreaming with a Broken Heart” comes on. The only part of me that feels that cold, empty feeling again is the part that recalls the pain we both went through during those months. But I also feel so happy, because we got through so much, that I know we can get through anything. I know that we can make it through a lot of crazy stuff, and I know inevitably that crazy stuff will come. I know that we love each other, not because it’s easy but because it’s natural. Now I can listen to sappy, slow music without shedding a tear. Looking back, I don’t regret much about both of our decisions. I kind of regret listening to John Mayer every morning though.