People often say that “the pen is mightier than the sword” (see wikipedia).
I have always liked this idea, and for me it always meant something positive, like that words could fix stuff that sheer violence couldn’t, or that talking could nudge your way to something that is too delicate and subtle to be approached by rough, practical means.
As it so happens, I was dead wrong.
This morning it hit me, or maybe I should say… it slashed me, like a pin piercing a voodoo doll or a dagger ripping your heart open. Words can hurt much much more than a slap in your face or a stab in the back for that matter. A physical wound will eventually heal, leaving a scar as a reminiscence. After some time, it will stop bleeding. But when your feelings are bruised and your soul (your heart) is shattered to pieces, there is no mending. You can try to forget, but whenever you go back there and think back to whatever happened, it will always hurt. It will never ever stop bleeding.
No… the heart is not a resilient organ. Mine especially, I’m afraid.