Self-Healing a Broken Heart

It’s been months since I went out on a date. While this charming man so intricately tells me about his passion for Marvel movies, all I can think about is you. Remember when we used to go out together? You would enjoy the view out the window and I, your company. I often wonder, after all these days apart, whether you knew I was looking at you from the rim of my coffee mug, hoping you can feel my heart full of love through my warm gaze.

“And that is the difference between DC and Marvel,” said my current date.

I nod and jerk as I am brought back to the reality of this date. I force a smile and lift the glass in front of me to take another sip of water.

“Let’s grab something to drink. The Mocha Latte here is to die for!”

Those words echoed in my head as he got up to order. Mocha Latte. Yes, I know that one. It was our…his… favorite drink. I drank it everyday for 2 years. At some point, I thought my bloodstream must have more latte than actual blood. I had my last cup the day we broke up. It was one of the many things I learnt to enjoy and conditioned myself to like just for you. It’s been 8 months since I had a sip of that drink. I think I miss it just as much as I miss you. People usually associate places or shows with their past memories, yet look at me associating a drink with you.

“You are going to love this!” he said, as he put down a piping hot porcelain mug in front of me.

He sat across from me with his own cup and had an excited look on his face. He didn’t sense the terror in my eyes looking at the steam coming out of the cup. He probably wanted me to take a sip and express how mindblown I was by the taste. But all I can think of is the rush of memories that’s about to pour in as I drink. Can I just throw it out? Pretend I don’t like it? Or do I take a sip and pretend to burn my tongue to avoid drinking the rest?

“Here, let me stir it up for you.”

Why is he being so nice to me? It makes it harder to walk away from this situation and lock him out. It’s not his fault, he didn’t break me. Nor did you. I did. I broke myself. It started with taking small bits of myself away for you, then bigger and bigger pieces. I didn’t think there would come a time I would need to collect these bits and piece them back together. I was convinced that change and sacrifice were a part of all relationships.

“Is it still too hot?”

I shake my head no and pick up the drink. I get a whiff of the scent first. Ahhh, the warm whipped cream smell with the chocolate sprinkles. I brought it closer to my lips and slowly took a sip. It tastes so good. I missed this. I missed this a lot.

“Great, right?”

Of course, yes! It’s great! Damn, it now feels ridiculous to have been avoiding this magic all along! How else have I been holding on to you? What other absurd things am I doing? Well, in reality, holding on isn’t absurd. It’s a coping mechanism. You know, holding on to sweet memories from the past in a way to get you through a hard present like rewatching shows we’ve seen together to keep me calm. Listening to songs we’ve listened to together. Preserving clothes I wore on our dates, nicely folded so they still carry your scent somewhere. Avoiding places we went to together just so the memories stay alive in my head. Looking through your posts on social media to catch a glimpse of you. Posting pictures of myself with friends so you know I’m not in a room sulking.

But I am sulking, I am still grieving over something that was never mine! I am still screaming into my pillows whenever the void gets a bit too dark. I still get random bursts of tears when I see other happy couples, wondering when it’ll be my turn to be happy. Absurd! Absolutely absurd!

But do you know what’s the worst thing out of all this? The fact that I wish I could share my heartbreak journey with you, show you the suffering and explain how I wish we still shared a bond. Does a break-up always have to mean no contact?

“And that is the story of how I thought I met the love of my life,” says my current date.

“Oh! I’m so sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“Don’t be. We live and we learn. No regrets.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It did. Like hell. For a long time.”

“Then?”

“Then one fine day I decided I wanted to come back to this lovely cafe. I had been avoiding it ever since we broke up.”

I gave him a surprised look.

“I know it sounds silly…not coming to a cafe just because you broke up here.”

“I broke up here too. I haven’t been back in months.”

He began to laugh.

“So, the problem is the cafe.”

We both laughed and continued drinking our lattes. Afterall, we find things we’ve lost in the place we lost them. For both of us, it might be this latte, here, in this cafe.

“So, what do you do for work?”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m a comic writer. That’s why I was telling you about my favorite Marvel movies. You weren’t listening, were you?”

I was so embarrassed, I think I turned red!

“I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be, just listen this time. Okay?”

I stretched forward and stared into his eyes so he knows he has my full attention.

“So, it all started when I was 5 and got my hands on a Spiderman comic…”

Author - Srinidhi Balaji