.heartache.

Heartache is the worst pain. I'd much rather endure any other physical pain over ever feeling heartache ever again.

That ^ from my Twitter account last night.

Don't you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead. Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don't come until heaven. But for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come. --Jeffrey R Holland

That ^ from the front of yesterday's Sacrament program. I saw it and immediately wanted to burst into tears. I didn't. But tears rolled swiftly down my face.

Seriously, heartache sucks. I always wonder why people allow themselves to go through the pain of falling in love, just to have it ripped away. And then I think about how great the love is while you're in it, and it seems worth it, just a little bit, to suffer through the pain of heartache just to feel it again. But we forget about it when the pain is so deep and the darkness so dark.
I understand the need for pain--it helps us appreciate the good that is also available. It's so hard to remember that though, when all we want to do is curl up into a ball and die.

Instead, we cry. And we yell. And we isolate ourselves. And if you're me, you listen to music. And cry some more. In the car, at church, in a different state. Lying in bed at night (which is always the worst--the nights are always the loneliest). And it's the gut wrenching kind of sobbing that is sure to wake up the neighbor's dogs, that make you feel like you can't breathe, and that you'll never be able to stop the tears.

And then all of a sudden, the pain subsides, even if just for a bit. But you know that something, a song, a memory, a place--could all trigger another bout of tears.
But eventually, it goes away, and though you remember what it felt to be that sad, you're grateful for the experience, and smile fondly at the memories. But it might take time, lots of time, to get to that point. And I'm not quite there yet.

So until then, I'll continue to listen to my music. And sob uncontrollably. And put on a brave face when I need to (at work, at dance) and no one would be the wiser. No one would know that there's a hole in my heart and a pain in the pit of my stomach that just won't go away. And I'll continue to do the things that I love, and continue to love the way that I do, until I can find a way to put myself back together and find that happiness again.