It’s all about the heart anyway, right?

I've been writing about heart since a while now and even though I try to digress from the topic I end up getting a glimpse of a heartfelt act or a picture that takes me back to it. 

You learn a lesson after you get your heart broken to about a million or more pieces. Yes, you do and I'm not denying that you become wise after an experience like this. But no one talks of the suffering only you have to go through. It's like you can feel each piece crack and shatter slowly. After its done that, it doesn’t end there, you feel the prick of each piece. Over and over. Every day till the day you survive. Sometimes old wounds are pricked again and they bleed twice as much. Sometimes some wounds have been pricked so much that there is no skin on them left to pave way for a scar. That's when you become numb to the pain, not the pricks. They still continue. 

Sure, writers write about their painful journey and you connect with it and find solace in the fact that you're not alone to feel this way. But then it’s forgotten when you encounter a happy moment of your own. Even though you felt what the writer wrote through your veins, it stays with you for a few minutes, hours, days and maybe some months. It might imprint your mind but then so will many more but that written note, that expression of an emotion, will forever be etched as a beautiful note in someone's history. It may one day be forgotten but not by that one person. The one who wrote it, who felt it, who struggled through it, who freed his/her pain through it. And it will go on living till the writer lives. I don't know who becomes immortal as a result of it, the writer or their journey!