The day I realized heartbreak wasn't poetic was the day that I sat in the passenger seat of my sister's car while she went 90mph on the highway with me and her beautiful 1 year old daughter in the car. She vented to me about how stupid she was for believing in him, and for believing that she could possibly help him when he didn't want help. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make her broken pieces even come close to resembling a mosaic. I couldn't make her look broken but beautiful.

And when it happened to me, when I had to listen to my boyfriend tell me that sometimes things just don't work out because sometimes people "forget" to be faithful, I imagined the next time I'd be driving a car. I imagined that the next time I was in the car I would be going 90mph on the highway, mumbling that I still loved him, but instead, the next time I drove a car, my mother was sitting in the passenger seat and I couldn't bring myself to even go above the speed limit. I never got close to 90 on the freeway. All I did was throw something against the wall hard enough that it broke, it shattered all over my floor, and I cut myself on the pieces as I tried to piece it back together just like I tried to piece my heart back together. I wrote about how much it hurt. I tried to make the way my ribs cracked from all the pressure seem poetic, but I couldn't spin the words to make it sound like that at all.

Nothing is beautiful or poetic about the way you feel when someone you love leaves, or just doesn't stay, or tells you that sometimes things just end up this way. And there isn't a single damn thing poetic about driving so fast that you think you're going to crash into every tree that passes you by.

It's not poetic, it's just disaster.

It's accidentally taking a breath underwater, even though you know the water will fill your lungs, even though you know it will burn, and good god does it burn. But somehow you just couldn't bring yourself to come up for air, and that's not beautiful. Heartbreak is opening your mouth but not being able to spit out a single word. All that comes out are a few pieces of your broken heart that you swallow, hoping nobody noticed them. You can feel the chaos inside of you, and you know you're going to turn into a hurricane and it's so dangerous. It's not beautiful. Heartbreak turns people into natural disasters that'll destroy anything in their path.

It makes people so broken that you can hardly see the light that used to shine through. It makes hearts so broken that you can't see the flame that was once ignited in there because the hurricane blew it away.

And you can't love him anymore because he's a flame, and you're a hurricane.