Where do Broken Hearts Go?
Written last 2019.
Where do broken hearts go?
I pant as the wind blows my face.
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.
The sound of my footsteps can be heard in the dead of night.
Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Right. Left
I can hear my heart beating outside of my chest.
“I’m tired. I don’t love you anymore.”
I see a light in the darkness. A house. Her house.
Three knocks on the door.
“She isn’t here.”
A plead comes out of my lips. “Please, I just need to talk to her.”
I made a stupid mistake.
“She’s really not here. Try somewhere else.”
I begged. “Please. Where do broken hearts go?”
Silence filled with sadness captures our room.
A sigh. “Try at the bar or the club. Maybe she’ll be there.”
The bar.
I know which bar to go to. It was the bar when we first met.
Where do broken hearts go?
I pant as the wind blows my face.
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.
The sound of my footsteps can be heard in the dead of night.
Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Right. Left.
I can hear my heart beating outside of my chest.
“I’m tired. I don’t love you anymore.”
I reminisce about the time when I first saw her there.
You look incredibly beautiful. I would be the luckiest man in the world if I can make you mine.”
I see the neon lights, flashing, blurring my sight, making me squint.
I go inside. Push the door. Hear a ring. I go straight to the bartender.
“Tequila.” One order. One question.
“Have you seen this girl?” A photo from my cellphone.
“Oh her? She wasn’t here today.”
A cry from my heart goes to my lips “Please. I need to see her.”
Her smile was genuine, with sarcasm in her eyes as it rolls. She was probably thinking, ‘what a lame thing to pick up a girl.”
“Sorry, kid. She really didn’t go here. Try someplace else.”
My eyes begin to water.
“Where do broken hearts go?”
Distress encompasses my heart. A hand on the shoulder. “Kid, have you tried visiting her favorite place?”
Where do broken hearts go?
I pant as the wind blows my face.
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.
The sound of my footsteps can be heard in the dead of night.
Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Right. Left.
I can hear my heart beating outside of my chest.
“I’m tired. I don’t love you anymore.”
I remember surprising her there on our first anniversary.
“I promise to love you with everything I have, with all that you are. Warts and scars and baggage and all.”
It was the park where we had a candlelit dinner.
I scan the park ahead. There was no one there. Except for an old man.
“Excuse me, sir. Have you seen this woman?”
A photo from my wallet. The two of us, in one song, in one dance, in one moment, in one picture.
“Sorry, but I’m all alone here.”
I whispered, fearing that my voice would break. “Please, I need to find her.”
“Promise me that no matter how bad it gets, we stay together. Promise me that when one of us gets tired, we rest and we fight. Promise me, that you won’t give up on us.”
“I’m sorry, young man, there was nobody here when I came and there’s still nobody here now.”
My voice cracked. “Where do broken hearts go?”
Misery follows the misty night. Or maybe it was my eyes that are already full of mist.
“Young man, have you tried her safe haven?”
Confusion replaces misery. “safe haven?”
“The place she hides where she wants to distance herself from everyone. Do you know where?”
This is where I usually go when I want to scream at the world. Or sometimes, I tell my secrets to the wind.”
I know where to go.
Where do broken hearts go?
I pant as the wind blows my face.
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.
The sound of my footsteps can be heard in the dead of night.
Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Right. Left.
I can hear my heart beating outside of my chest.
“I’m tired. I don’t love you anymore.”
I can hear the fight that ended it all.
“You promised you would love me. You promised you wouldn’t give up on us. How can you give up so easily?”
“Let me guess. You wanted to fix the things you broke?”
Her voice was as smooth as a sailboat. As melodic as her favorite song.
A simple sentence only escapes my lips,
“So, this is where broken hearts go.”
