A few minutes ago I said goodnight to someone I love. It was a goodnight that really meant goodbye, as we both hung up on our relationship.

Some might consider it to be a tragic event handled with maturity and finality. Actions almost worthy of praise. Instead, I must compare it to a man who doesn't scream when his leg is severed. It hurts like hell...you wish you can change the events that transpired...yet all you can do is lay there in stunned shock staring straight ahead through blurry eyes. Eyes without sight expecting to wake from a nightmare. To scream would be to acknowledge the fact that it is the worst kind of nightmare: reality. All I can do is imagine a future in which a vital part of me is no longer connected.

My world has crumbled before me. What remains of my intellect struggle for some sort of structure to be built from the ashes. But it is a feeble voice, one being drowned out by the wails of despair. My one consolation is that I am now tired. That perhaps with rest I will be more adept to handle life's changes. Yet I fear that with tomorrow's dawn that single assurance will evaporate with the morning dew. Tomorrow, I will be alone.

If only hearts were disposable. I could then ask for another as my own is broken. I must admit that my heart is excessively fragile. Like a crystal ball dropped from high, never again will my heart recover completely despite all efforts of repair. The clarity that once existed will hence be jaded and the protection afforded ever so much more strict. Will my heart ever be allowed to view love's light? Or will it only recognize love's brilliance as pain? Such questions will forever employ soothsayers.

Tonight, I have lost. Tomorrow...is a new day. A new day, new hope, and perhaps someday, a new heart.