Writing While Your Heart is Breaking

Your heart is breaking. Love has left your life, orwork, but it was what came out at the time...
someone you love has become ill or died. How can
you possibly think about writing at a time like
that?Not long ago, I felt the same way. I sat in myMa Bell Lied
van in an airport parking lot watching the planes take
off; knowing inside one of those huge metalFor years she's been telling me
machines was the man I loved. He wasn't leaving forto reach out and touch someone
a quick trip or even a week long trip. No, he was
leaving for a six weeks to a country thousands ofIt's almost like being there,
miles away from his home, his children and me.Myif only you'll pick up the phone.
heart sank as I started the van and pulled out of the
parking lot. It's not like we haven't already dealt withBut the whine of long-distance
this before. He's been on this assignment for awhilephone lines is deafening.
now, gone for six weeks, back for one. Regular as
clockwork. It's enough to drive a sane person mad.The sadness and loss of distance
Or drive a writer to write a sad story or poem, orcannot be quieted
two, or ten.I write in my journal nearly every day
now. Mostly I say how much I miss him and howFor years she's been lying
angry I am our lives are being ruled by a company'sto you and to me.
inability to know what they were getting into. But I
also write important things to tell him; things the boysAs I said, not my best work. But it did ease the
have done, or the dog, or even the rat. And I'm alsoanger I felt towards the phone company and the
writing again. Not the "get it published in a magazine"connection we had. And it made me smile, which
kind of writing, but a "cleanse your heart of pain"helped as well.Writing heals a broken heart. No, wait,
kind.When my hubby first left back in May, he calledthat's not right. Writing makes it easier to deal with a
me from Heathrow Airport to let me know his flightbroken heart. And writing is wonderful expression of
was delayed. He didn't want me to worry about him.the pain of being apart. So, when your heart is
The connection we had was awful. I could barelybreaking, sit down and write.Dawn Arkin is an author
hear him and he could barely hear me. That callon
spawned a long angry entry aimed at the phonewhich is a site for Love Poetry. Her portfolio can be
company in my journal, and this poem. Not my bestfound at so stop by and read for a while.