Marti Schodt
November 16, 2014 6:00 am

Dear heart that is currently broken into a thousand little pieces on my kitchen floor,

How dare you? I thought we were on the same team. You were supposed to protect me. When I started dating that guy who, in hindsight clearly sucked, you were supposed to speak up. I trusted you, and you trusted him. Again, how dare you? How could you be so easily bamboozled? I think you secretly knew this dude was bad news. When he treated me poorly, I think I felt you contract a bit. I think I felt you sigh when I cried, and I think I felt you pound in frustration when he said those things we promised not to talk about. I think you knew —but you kept quiet. And that’s almost worse than not knowing at all, because you could have stopped it. You could have spoken up: I would have listened.

Ok, maybe not right away. Maybe it would have taken me a while to believe you, and maybe I might have gotten angry with you, but I would have come around eventually. Probably. I think. But now here we are: damaged and soggy with tears.

I don’t know how to fix you anymore. There isn’t enough duct tape in the world to repair the mess you’ve made. I can try pizza, but I’m not sure that’ll do the trick this time. I’m going to try anyways because I love pizza and I think I’ve earned it. Maybe ice cream will help too. Maybe if I mix it with the shattered remnants of my hopes and confidence in love, it’ll all meld together into a mint chocolate chip ball of disappointment and pass as a new heart. Maybe with this pint I can make a fresh start. With this spoon I will carve out a new frontier of love and of life. I will take one big bite for women everywhere who have been in my shoes. And then another big bite for me specifically, because I really, REALLY have earned it.

Now that I think about it, this ice cream is my new significant other, and I think we’ll be very happy together. Did you hear that, heart? Ice cream and I share the same passions: Netflix and napping. We were clearly meant to be. We are one: body and soul. This ice cream will never hurt me. It will never hurt you. It will never complain when I make it watch New Girl for hours on end. It loves New Girl, and it loves me, even when I’m wearing sweatpants and that one shirt with all the mysterious stains.

I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you, heart. It isn’t really your fault we’re broken. I mean it kind of is, but it mostly isn’t. It’s in your nature to be trusting. You give everyone a chance, and that’s beautiful even if it hurts sometimes. I appreciate that you believe in people. I appreciate that you keep beating. I appreciate that with every breath you are drawing me closer to a new beginning, and giving me the strength to recognize real love (romantic and otherwise) when it finally comes along. Without you, I’d be dead, literally and metaphorically. Because without a heart I couldn’t live, and without love, life wouldn’t be worth living. You’re a tough one, heart, and you’ll make it through this. Now hand me that spoon, we’ve got work to do.

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