When anything glass breaks, the clean up process usually priority is picking up the biggest pieces first because it’s easier than picking up the smaller ones. I wonder if that’s what it’s like when a heart breaks too. It’s easier to let go of the big things: the trust, the commitment, the communication…, but then we realize later on that it’s the small things that cause the most trouble.
We’ll find little pieces here and there that remind us of what things were once like. It will hurt because those are the ones we aren’t careful of avoiding since we took them for granted, or we just didn’t notice them before. You do start to notice them now because you miss them and their absence is felt.
For example, I’ll see the warped waves on the tinted glass of a car window, and I’ll remember how much you loved the ocean. Or I’ll come across a song I used to enjoy but have to skip over now because it reminds me of you (a little too much). Or I’ll find myself eating alone and you won’t be there to stare at me, smile, and then when I’d ask why, you’d say ‘nothing’. We both knew it wasn’t nothing. Because now, this, this is nothing.
Sometimes you get so used to brushing off the little things, you think you’ve swept everything away. But then years go by and every once in a while, you’ll still find those little pieces hiding in places you didn’t think you’d find them. An old letter. An old photograph. Flower petals pressed between books and journals. A movie. The way he looks at her. The way he used to look at you. The sunsets. The full moon. An old sweater. An old friend.
I guess that’s why it also matters how far you fall before you break. Sometimes it isn’t so far enough that you only break into large pieces. It’s easier to clean up. But other times, it’ll feel like you’ve been thrown off a building and so there are just so many little pieces. Shattered. Too many. And it takes you forever to pick them up, but you do. Or you will, eventually.
And then you promise yourself that you’ll be more careful next time.