Sometimes I wonder how.
I had the Johnny and June idea about our life together. One of us would die and within a couple of months the other would die of a broken heart.
Fast forward to almost 3 years later, and that theory has been proven wrong…..Even though there have been many times I’ve begged for it’s brokenness to take over the rest of my body to finally reunite me with Michael.
I didn’t know how it could still beat, other then that it must be held together by the eternal remnants of our love.
But lately, I’ve thought of “E.R.” or “Grey’s”. A doctor will be doing some sort of open-heart surgery when the patient suddenly flat-lines. The paddles won’t work and in a last ditch effort, the doctor pulls the heart out of it’s chest and starts pumping it with his two hands.
The night I heard Michael died, i remember putting my hand over my heart and feeling as if it had stopped, as if I was hollow. I wanted to give up and at times prepared to raise that white flag, but just like the doctor with the patient, I felt as if Michael began pumping me back to life with those rugged and callused hands of his.
At first I despised as it got stronger, yet with time have cried tears of happiness as I felt all its capacity fill my being once again with the love and memories that made it once pound in his presence….The feelings and times that had, for so long, been clouded my by own despair.
My heart is broken.
My heart is healing.
My heart still beats in the warmth of your hands.
It beats to tell the story of our love and pulsate your undying words through my veins…..
“I Love You, Taryn.”
And that my friends, is how a broken heart still works.