Numb

I live a block away from a subway station. Every 5-10 minutes, the 7 train rattles my windows as it rumbles by. Having lived in quiet neighborhoods growing up, I was not used to being jolted awake by loud noises in the middle of the night. But like most things, you eventually get used to it. After the first 2-3 months, I no longer hear this 82,000-lb piece of metal as it passes by. 

Pain is the same way. The more frequently you feel it, you develop a tolerance that numbs you from its sting. Every time you recall a moment or a look, it shoots at you like a lightning bolt. But the more you let it seep through, its power over you changes. Over time the intensity wanes until you no longer remember that it used to make you curl up like a ball. 

There is hope. The pain you feel now is temporary. Eventually you will forgive and forget. The human heart was apparently built to absorb the deepest hurts and still remain intact. Right now you might think it's shattered beyond repair. It isn't.

One day, you won't cry yourself to sleep. 

One day, you will wake up eager to start a new day. 

One day, you will remember but not cringe. 

One day, you will smile (a real one) again.