I've only been in love twice in my life. Sure I have had some wonderfully nice boyfriends along the way, but there was only real love twice. The 2nd is my husband whom I love more than anything, the first was when I was 14.
Admittedly, I was very young, but it was the most amazing, confusing time. It was all consuming, but more than infatuation, I really cared and loved the boy I was with. The feelings were so strong that anybody I was with after just paled in comparison to that experience, and nothing met or surpassed that until I met my husband.
When he came to my gym after school to break it off, for the stupid reasons that 14 year olds break up, I was devastated. I remember the moment and being frozen standing on a blue carpeted floor height balance beam as the tears began to flow, and the inability to make a decision to stay on or get off. But what I remember most was the large empty hole in my chest. The grief that he was not going to be part of my life and the realization immediately of how empty that made me feel. At the time of course I didn't think that anyone would ever be able to fill that void . . . but in my defense it did take quite a while.
Today this feeling returned just the same as it has been after every major loss in my life. Empty. Exposed. A vortex centered under my sternum sucking every molecule of positive emotion into the black hole where it will seemingly never return from. There is no escape from that amount of gravity.
I am without purpose, standing alone on a balance beam once again. Don't know where to go from here, but I am paralyzed to go on with practicing the routine.