I think I’ll wall off my heart.

by Kyeli on February 22, 2010

Last week, we watched “The Tale of Desperaux”. In it, the narrator says “There are those hearts that never mend again once they are broken. Or if they do mend, they heal themselves in a crooked and lopsided way, as if sewn together by a careless craftsman.”

I, in my broken-hearted state, nodded and wept.

The next morning, I decided to carelessly sew my heart back together and wall it off. I’ve been broken-hearted so many times before, I decided I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I’m tired of being heart-sick, so I’ll just whip some stitches in there and wall off my heart.

Then, I loaded up my current addiction, Sims 3. I decided – and I’m not proud of this – to make the meanest, heartless-est, cruelest sim I could, and play her so I could vent my anger and hurt and madness and test out my newfound heartlessness.

I named her Quinn.

But I don’t just play the Sims. I’m a storyteller, so I craft their stories. I weave emotion into their lives, give meaning to the little tasks they do at my whim. I love my Sims.

I’m already not doing so well at being heartless, eh?

Quinn was mean. She was evil and mean-spirited and hot-headed, she enjoyed making enemies and hurting people, and loved getting into fights.

But every time she’d walk away from a fight, in my story, she was really sad. Deep down, her broken-all-too-often, crooked, badly mended heart would hurt, just a little bit, every single time.

In her sub-terrain home, she would sit on her couch and just be angry.

In my beautiful home, I’ve been sitting on my couch and just being angry.

In her story, in my imagination, something tragic had happened to her, and she’d walled off her heart. She’d mended it too quickly, and wound up hurting too badly to bear, and, brick by brick, tragedy by tragedy, built the wall til she couldn’t feel anymore.

So tempting.

But I could see it in her lovely face – I could see every freak I know. I could see every kid who threw shoes at me, real or verbal. I could see every bully, every jerk, every tail-pulling, rock-throwing, finger-flipping asshole I’ve ever encountered. I could see their broken, crooked, badly-mended hearts, walled off to protect themselves from whatever pain finally did them in and built their walls.

In the end, I deleted her game. I couldn’t take it. I was weeping for her, for her poor broken, crooked, hurting and hurtful heart. I loved Quinn, and my own heart ached for hers, hardened though it was.

And in turn, my own heart ached for my own heart, hurting as it is. I was filled with compassion for myself. I sat there, starting at my computer screen, and let myself hurt.

And I do hurt. I ache. I long for the life I had a month ago, a life of preparation and blissful unawares, a life on the brink instead of in the mush.

But in the end, a wall isn’t the answer. Not for me, not for my sensitive, bared-to-the-world, broken, crooked, badly-mended heart.

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{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }

RoundSparrow February 22, 2010 at 1:43 pm

Pain is love, love is pain. To wall out one is to create a seam in your heart.

Your heart was never broken, only you were not accepting all of love.

Love is loss, life is loss. Death and loss is your promise in life.

It is through this truth that you can enjoy and appreciate life. That realizing love is scarce in expression, it gives each expression meaning. By realizing the we are all one in seeking love – you open your heart to the possibility.

Sorrow is part of free choice in love. Your parents don’t arrange your dates and marriage. The Tristan romance of year 1180 speaks of this pain. Tristan says, “If by my death, you mean this agony of love, that is my life. If by my death, you mean the punishment that we are to suffer if discovered, I accept that. And if by my death, you mean eternal punishment in the fires of hell, I accept that, too.”

Let love be eternal in your spirit, let the timeless memories bring your past loves to share with new loves. Think not of a broken heart but one of experience. Think not of winter as bad and summer as good, enjoy the contrast as life – enjoy life!


Emma Newman February 22, 2010 at 1:45 pm

I’ve been reading about your pain since your terrible news, and feeling so upset for you, and I’ve thought about you for days and suddenly realised that I hadn’t commented. Idiot that I am.

I didn’t know what to say I guess, but I was being a fool. I am so sad with you. I am so gutted with you. It does nothing to change things; I am on the other side of the world and I can’t fix any of it, but if all this does is make you feel that tiny bit less alone in the world, then it’s something. That’s all any of us can do in the end, isn’t it?

Love love love to you xx And if you’re angry and want to scream at this comment, then that’s cool too.
.-= Emma Newman´s last blog ..Friday Flash Fiction: Satisfaction =-.


Pace February 22, 2010 at 1:49 pm

@RoundSparrow: I know you’re trying to help, but I don’t think Kyeli is in a place where she can hear what you are saying.


Ellie Di February 22, 2010 at 1:52 pm

I can’t express how happy I am that you came to this conclusion. It always makes me heart-sick myself when I hear that someone has decided to wall themselves off, and you’re just such a wonderful lady that if you did that, I’d likely explode. I’m glad you got out your frustration. I’m glad you found a place for self-compassion in your heart. I’m glad you chose to be open instead. Glad, glad, glad. Much love to you, dollface. <3
.-= Ellie Di´s last blog ..Today, I Am Pretty =-.


Tanya February 22, 2010 at 4:51 pm

Sai Weng Shi Ma, Yan Zhi Fei Fu.

The story is not over, and its conclusion is not known.


Stacy February 23, 2010 at 12:04 am

This, simply, is a beautiful post. And something I really was needing to hear, too.

So, thank you.


Julia February 23, 2010 at 9:59 am

@Pace –

I kinda figured that – and all I have is, Take the time you need to grieve, and don’t beat yourself up in the meantime.

If the blogging is helping with the grief process, then I’ll read as many blog entries as it takes writing to get through the worst of it.

(And my reaction to someone blogging this sort of pain is, I’m honored that I’m trusted enough to be allowed to see it.)


Anna March 5, 2010 at 6:49 am

Hi Kyeli,

I don’t usually comment here but I read all your posts. I just wanted to say that I am glad to hear you are beginning to feel better. You are brave and lovely, and you inspire me.


Oil April 18, 2010 at 6:46 am

You know what? I accidentally found your blog from google and I just love it. :)


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