Post Traumatic Love Disorder
Once upon a time, a woman told me she loved me and then she broke my heart. Not only that, she broke my spirit. I suffer flashbacks, emotional memories that scream at me like a grenade going off. Now there’s someone new in my life who gets me, really gets me. I feel like my heart’s been collecting dust in a jar under the kitchen sink. She wants to hold it and I want to let her. My thoughts keep getting in the way. I wonder if my insecurities are too heavy for her. I doubt hard. I love hard. I’m not like Sunday morning. I’m not easy. I’m a poet, bruised by unrealistic movie sentiments and bittersweet literature. When she swoons, I feel it in places I didn’t know I had. If that’s love then maybe there’s hope for me.