There’s a hole in my heart. It will never be filled. It’s smaller than it feels; a shotgun blast through the center of my heart, but I know it’s really the size of a pin. It stings.
I’ve tried to fill this hole with my career. It left me bitter and frustrated because work is not what defines your self-worth. It can be a component to how you measure your self-worth, but it has nothing to do with the work you do. It is much more about the way you do your work and how it makes you feel. I threw myself into my work expecting for it to love me back, but all it did was take everything I could give, and still came up short, never meeting my expectations.
I’ve tried to fill this hole with people. I hoped each time that that person would latch onto me, decide all they wanted to do was make me happy, and stop me from feeling hurt. But I was in it for the wrong reasons. I wanted a quick fix, wanted to cover up the real pain of experiences I wanted to put behind me and never deal with. I rushed, I jumped to conclusions, I fantasized, I created illusions of people. No one met my expectations. My flimsy, selfish expectations.
I’ve tried to fill this hole with alcohol and drugs. It’s a temporary fix. Sometimes it helps to get the emotions out. My thick skin grows thinner, and all the emotions sit like the head on top of a well-poured beer. I know I’m looking for a distraction, where I can float off to a happy place, full-well knowing it never lasts, but even a few hours of a drunken or stoned stupor appear to be fulfilling. There are times I hope I end up crying instead. And I do, but I do it quietly in the dark of my room, burning tears seeping out of my eyes as I run through the stories of my past, again, and worry for my future. I never find a resolution nor a solution.
I’ve tried to leave the hole alone and let it just be there. Subconsciously, I keep trying to fill it with something else. Right now, the hole is magnified. I see this vast, empty space. Dark and ashy, it looks like it’s been burnt with such an intensity that some embers still faintly glow. But it is frigid there, filled with my own icy breath. No one belongs in this place. It is a black hole, a void. The closer I get it to, the more I get sucked in, and as I stumble in deeper, it causes the collapse of my whole world. It is the place where everything is lost.
We all have this hole in our hearts. And I know mine has to be left alone. It can’t be filled or forgotten. Stretching out from that point of emptiness, loneliness, sadness, hurt, and shame is an infinity of possibility. A million starting points of rays of light, our hopes for happiness. Set off with that hope for happiness and if the light burns out, you’ll find yourself back at the hole. Your heart is simply telling you to start over, because there is no endpoint when it comes to happiness, love, and light. Trust slowly, love openly, and then skyrocket away from the hole of despair, like a sparkler spastically crackling and bursting light. The hole in my heart is simply is a place to begin again.