Broken and Alone

If my heart was broken, wouldn’t that imply that it is no-longer functioning? It’s function is to love you, so if it was broken, battered and destroyed beyond repair, wouldn’t that mean that at least I could stop loving you? But I haven’t. And I never will; these feelings go on… no matter how much loving you is killing me. So what is my heart if it is not broken? And why does it hurt so?

If I was dead on the inside, would that not imply that I’m finally at peace? That I can no-longer hurt or cry or beg for it to be over? That suffering would not be all that I feel because I would feel nothing at all? So if I am not dead on the inside, why am I not alive either? Why do I feel no life inside me…and yet so much pain?

If I was alone, would that not imply that the people next to me are not there? That the crowds of a million strangers that surround me did not exist - that I was the only soul wandering this earth? So if I am not alone, why do I feel so empty? So lonely – abandoned? What makes me so invisible?

I guess my heart is not broken. And I am not alone nor dead on the inside. But I’ll tell you what I am.

I am screaming in silence.