The first time that I truly broke my heart, I was listening to poetry.
The thing about listening to poetry is that you never expect for your heart to stop in your chest. You never expect to feel the pain of love or the beauty of rage. You suddenly know how to fly; you know what the stars taste like and the color of water.
Then suddenly, all of this and more happens at the moment you least and most expect it. You are the poet, sitting in a cafe with your laptop, scribbling a lone line on the train, furiously texting out a note on your phone. The poem comes to life; you understand why you ever began to write in the first place. You've never been broken like this before, but it doesn't matter because you're not you anymore.You're inside the mind of a poet, like Neil Hilborn.
His poem titled "OCD" was the first poem I ever watched performed. I saw it online, but that didn't take away from what I experienced. As I had always read poems and written them, I never realized the power that a poet has when they perform their own poetry as they heard it in their own minds. The way Hilborn performs "OCD" is flawed, hurried, desperate, and sad. It is everything you want in a poem but none of the feelings you want to experience. It was this poem that made me understand gravity because I felt the world stop and my feet lift off the ground for single moment. Truly.
Throughout the poem, the audience gets a glimpse into how it is to be in a relationship with Hilborn, a man with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). He has to do things repetitively, making sure they are perfect. In the beginning, everything is adorably tragic. He seems to get the girl he doesn't believe he deserves because of his disorder. When he gets her, he can't believe she's happy with someone like him. Someone flawed.
Then, his love begins to get annoyed by his characteristics. She no longer loves him for the things that make him, him. The poet begins to take up too much of her time because of his obsessive compulsive behavior. She calls their relationship a mistake although Hilborn does not agree. He does not think that love is a mistake. This woman changed him.
In the moment I realized the impact she had on his life, I felt what Neil Hilborn felt. I empathized with the despair he felt of not being "perfect" despite how much his nature wanted him to be. The one thing he wanted in life was to be perfect, and for her, he wasn't.
"OCD" is not only about loving someone else. It is about loving yourself. This man, who most likely never believed he would be able to experience a love as deep as the one between him and this woman, opened up about his flaws. This woman made him a better person and allowed him a glimpse into a life where he believed he was deserving of love.
Hilborn made me realize that despite all my flaws, I can be loved. That, I too, am deserving of love whether it be from family, friends, or in romantic relationships. There is something that connects me to this poem that is deeper than love. My heart ached when he recited his last lines, because they came full circle. Hilborn would always make sure to leave the lights on and lock the door to his house when he was with this woman, and she felt safe when he did it. By the end of the poem he tells us that he loves her and wants her back so badly that he leaves the door unlocked and the lights on, waiting for her to come back. I, too, am this passionate about the people in my life. I, too, am willing to do whatever it takes to make them happy, and for Hilborn, he thinks that by changing himself, he will make her happy. Perhaps he would for a time but not forever.
The problem with his love, is that she does not love him for who he is. I took these last lines seriously because they mean that a person can change who they are, but the key to love and happiness to be content in oneself. Hilborn isn't able to see that having OCD doesn't make him incapable of being loved. He is enough as he is. Yes, he is flawed, but so are all people. I don't understand what it's like to deal with mental illness, but this poem brought me into Hilborn's world so for a moment or two, I could. I felt a connection to Hilborn despite not understanding his struggles with OCD. I would do anything to make the people I love give me the same affection back. Yet I should never yearn for this. All of my worth comes from within; there is nothing I need to change about myself.
Neil Hilborn's "OCD" broke my heart. I was not alone in my frustrations and insecurities with myself. I was not alone in my aching heartbreak. Hilborn made me feel that. He lead me on my path to explore other poets; he helped me to hear the poem through his voice. When I listen to poetry, the poet, no matter who it is, brings him or herself into the poem. This poem belongs to all of us. Poetry is flawed in its own beautiful ways. It can be sad, compulsive, and obsessive. But it can also be loving and happy—just like the people who write it.
Neil Hilborn - "OCD"www.youtube.com
