Where Do Broken Hearts Go

It is a place where free spirits and wandering souls take refuge, like hers that once found itself in its shores almost a year ago. Wandering and free, a state she should've preserved she thought. But this dopamine-inducing utopia found its way to her mind and eventually her heart and she found herself willingly caught in its zealous trance.

She doesn't know what happened. A couple of months back she was happy and full of love, then one bad decision led to the next and here she is now, ruptured in the in-between.

Broken hearts, shattered dreams, fragmented idealism. A mess beyond repair. 

A wreckage that even the most pristine beach, picturesque landscape, longest ride, breathtaking sunrise and sunset, hilarious new-found-friends, or the oldest temple could not heal.

But maybe there is one place. That place where she once felt whole. 

She wanted to go back because maybe its warm embrace would melt her broken heart and mold it back to how it was before, like nothing ever happened. But things are the not the same way as before.

She knows that walking its shores will be different. The sand would be like eggshells, the stares will be much more piercing, and the sun will give her chills.

Really, there is no place to go. But maybe there is another place. A place where she always return to.

Home is where broken hearts should go. Not to escape anything but to feel the brokenness in its entirety. To recognize the cracks, to identify what was lost, and to realize what there is to gain.