The Two Halves I Held

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

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When a woman's broken heart ends up in her hands, she must decide what to do to put the pieces back together.

Two beating chunks in her hands. Red, veiny chunks full of blood and hurt and hope. They belonged in her chest, of course. Inside of her where she couldn't watch them beat uselessly, seemingly for no reason. But here they were, in her hands. 
The Valentines she got in school taught her that a heart was shaped like a peach, Stupidly, she believed that for almost her whole life. It sat in it's rounded crimson glory right between her breats. And stupidly, she believed that too. She believed a lot of things before she sat in her room with her curtains drawn, barring the light, barring society, barring the man who crushed this ugly thing in her hands.
She sighed, sadly. All she could do was look at the blobs. She squeezed the left half just to see what would happen. A sharp pain rippled in her body, but it was the memories that gripped her. She saw the first date, the first kiss, the first fight. The first time they connected mind and body. She saw the bouquet of roses she'd gotten on their anniversary, the ring binding the skinny roses together. The left side was the happy memories, she surmised. She squeezed it again. The trips to the beach, the side splitting laughter, the late nights they spent talking about family, television, music, the future. All the beauty of those three years. A short time, yes, but efficient time it was. So much happened in just three years. 
Hesistantly, she squeezed the right half. The pain in her body was much worse. It felt like a bad cramp, like it was ripping her body in two. She saw all the things she never wanted to see again. The text message she peeked over his shoulder. "Baby, u comin?" 
She was baby for three years. She was the one sending those messages. When did she get replaced? The fights started getting worse. He stopped coming over. He couldn't get hard. He wouldn't respond to the phone calls and text messages. He was never home when she came over. 
Why are you doing this? She sobbed to him one night. He just shrugged. And that's when she knew the last three years of her life had gone down the drain. 
All the happy memories were wiped out so fast. She couldn't remember that time they sang to the song they loved on the radio. Instead she replayed that horrible night when he harshly told her it was over and to go away and leave him and Natasha alone. What had she done to deserve that? 
The right half was darker now than the left. Before they were equally an optimistic tomato red. She favored the left half, she decided. She held it up and admired it. Good times. But the red half was still there. 
Hesistantly, she slammed the two halves together. The pain was almost unbearable. She fought throw every tear shed, both in laughter and pain. The physical pain of it made her gasp. She couldn't breath. Just for a while. This was going to pass eventually. And after a few deep breaths, she closed her eyes and watched the relationship pass in front of her eyes like an old movie. 
She woke up a day later, off that heartbroken coma, and looked at the sun rise. It was orange, She suddenly remembered the halves of her broken heart but decided not to take them out of herself again. Today she would go running, today she would go for drinks with her best friend, today she would pull herself out from the shadows and remember what life felt like. 
And today, someone would look for that girl with the broken heart so he can put it together.

Submitted: June 29, 2016

© Copyright 2022 Kristen Kaye. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:



Great story. I like the idea of two sides of a heart, one for good things and one for bad. You finished up on an optimistic note too, which I wasn't really expecting.

Wed, June 29th, 2016 10:13am


Thank you.

Fri, July 1st, 2016 11:33am

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