Love feels so physical sometimes that I can imagine its shape, texture, color, vascularisation and innervation, like it is a real organ in the human body.
I bear witness that it can be the most powerful one. It produces a large scope of derivates of the spirit molecule, the divine one that was released into our bodies the moment we were born and came out of our mother’s womb. Tryptamine, serotonine analogues, just to count a few. Receptors become more aware of the tactile sensation of our lover’s skin and it will spread quickly through our fast fibers to our central nervous system and we will feel such an abundance of pleasure that it’s addictive. Our eyes see the goodness, our retina transmits a reality seen through a pink-colored glass. Our bodies become so fluid it feels like we are water flowing into a waterfall of love. It never ends, it overflows, it is the evidence of feeling alive. It’s life’s most liveful thing. It’s almost mystical.
But the misfortune is that love is also such a sensitive organ. You can cut it’s blood supply with carelesness and it will quickly become hypoxic and suffer. Little focal points of necrosis will emerge and after that – fibrosis. Which means it regenerates swiftly, but those parts that are now stiff. The beautiful hard-working cells full of life are dead. The organ is big enough to resist a long period of time, it can go through an incredibly amount of pain and still beat the same and still love fully. Sometimes, the lover directly uses the sharp knife of harsh words and slashes through causing an escape of blood – it’s a hemorrhage. That’s why some artists represent heart broken hearts as bleeding. It pours and it pours and it becomes depleted and weak and sometimes it can even go through a schock! That’s an emergency.
Our lover is the only one who has the key to it. He is the perfect criminal, the only one who can decide that your love is not good anymore. He cuts all the tissue that binds it to your body and takes it out. That place is now empty.
You take yourself to the intensive care station to fully recover. No other hospital section can take better care of broken hearts. There you find other kinds of doctors who take care of you the way they can – a perfusion, a thought, their time – you are not alone. They are your family, they are your friends. And after some time, which can be hours, weeks or years, you get out of the dark intensive care unit and step out into the light.
That’s why sometimes after a breakup, your body also feels lighter. The organ that was bleeding, dying, going in overdrive is now just gone. Every other cell gets back it’s normal supply of oxygen and you can feel them again. Your breath feels easier. You do good. You keep moving.
It’s place is now vacant, until a new seed will break bravely it’s coat and vanquish through all those adhesions. Henceforth you will love again. Just take good care, my darling.
