On Stoic Hearts and Scar Tissue.

I wonder what my heart looks like.

 

There in my chest, pumping- always pumping. Never for once stopping for air- never for once stopping to catch its breath.

— Pumping. Always pumping.

 

I wonder what my heart looks like.

 

Scarred. Definitely scarred. Very scarred.

Strange: The insulating protection offered my ribcage did absolutely nothing to shield my heart from emotional scarring. Absolutely nothing.

I hope the scars do not affect its pumping. I hope they do not restrict its movement or anything like that. Scar tissue might not stretch as much as normal tissue- could prevent the heart from expanding as much as is needed to adequately pump blood.

No wonder I get lightheaded at times. Not enough blood being pumped. Not enough blood being pumped at all.

 

I wonder what my heart looks like.

 

I wonder what it does with all of that pain from lost love- from love not just lost, but forcefully torn away. Jarringly detached.

My heart is definitely scarred. Definitely.

Hm, I just realised something. These scars are probably going to last forever. Till the end of my life at least. Wounds heal yes, but scars- scars are a different ball game entirely.

I’ll probably always experience this painful throbbing every once in a while. Probably always. Consequence of the scarring. Implications of scar tissue. 

 

Of love lost. Of smiles gone dark. Of little happiness bulbs conclusively detached from electricity.

 

I wonder what my heart looks like.

 

 

 

 

[ Image Credits: https://tinybuddha.com/blog/never-ashamed-scar-4-lessons-self-acceptance-resilience/ ]

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