Masking The Heartache
For Her, wherever she is…
Idle Time | June 2025
There are times when we carry heartache so quietly that even we forget how heavy it is. Times when doing all the right things still leaves us questioning if we’ve taken the right path. This piece was born from those moments — from the ache of wanting love that stays, from the inner conversations we have when we’re trying to protect our hearts and still hope for more.
Masking the Heartache is for anyone who’s ever felt tired of being brave, who’s ever clung to dreams that felt so close yet slipped away, and who’s ever tried to cover the cracks with affirmations, petals, or just plain strength. I hope these words remind you that you’re not alone in the quiet battles.
She’s getting tired of being brave, Did all the right things but still questions if she went the right way, Used to believe in fairytales, now it’s hard for her smile, Her heart’s so open but it’s been hard to find her crown, Thought she tasted true love, but for him to live up to his words, it’s been awhile..
What is she to do now? Followed all those routes, yet fulfilment wasn’t found. She got her degree but is yet to feel proud, What am I to search for now?
Clutching to that image of being led through a crowd, By one that’ll protect all that’s beneath her gown, One to bring back the butterflies, even though it’s winter now.
But when I see him, will I know how? Tired of being played by incubus-like ways, A pied piper with his words, a comforting dream he illustrates. Saying all the right things, of all that’d we be. Even if it were a dream, I too wish to believe. I’m just a girl who loves the way he lulls me asleep. But when he gets what he wants, he always finds an excuse to leave.
Despite numerous attempts, he never stays to comfort me.
He read all that was written on my eyes, showed up at the perfect time, yet intentions weren’t aligned with mine.
Did isolation make me appear so eager, so primed… For the taking, Despite not being adjacent, I guess it’s the cost of my lack of patience.
But he’s the manifestation of my deepest desires, how can I hate this? If it’s a figment of my mind, why can’t I taste this?
The broadness of his shoulders, the warmth of his embrace, The deep soothing nature of his voice, like perfectly placed kisses — how’d he find my delicate points?
How he effortlessly eases the worries of the day, in his presence they go away, How his demeanour is always so poised, never too high, too low. In my tides he now rows.
Since when did my defences become so pregnable…
Till I realised I lost sight of his boat.
Life was never how they said it’d be, there’s no guidelines, no public notary. No one to hold my hand and share some hope with me. Now I’m left dealing with this familiar pain.
Maybe I just need to get away — one ticket by jet or plane, A place more tropical, not no city escapes, Somewhere there’s less reminders where I can mask this heartache.
Her heart too precious, gotta protect it, Filling pages in her journal, she’s been reflecting, Curating Pinterest boards, her interests changing, Trying to cover wounds, her heart bleeding on the pavement.
Someone should’ve told me it was so hard to make those changes. Ex’s circling back, but I’m open to entertainment, That wouldn’t be the case if isolation was more so painless.
Repeating affirmations feels somewhat aimless, Confessions in the dark, like someone save me. She’s working hard on herself, she’s far from lazy, Placing flower petals and rose quartz right where the pain be, Holding on to false hope before life can change me…
Noting it’s been a while since she last truly smiled, Searching in her reflections something to renew her perspective. Despite all the times she felt dejected by all she accepted…
Plagued by tests of patience, that one exception she’s awaiting…
Questioning herself, is it a fable that she’s chasing? One to relinquish all hardships that she’s facing, ever so gracefully. Conversing with herself like,
Would that reality really change me?
You said we’d paint the walls of our shared apartment, whilst laying in bed. How, we’d decline the limo and opt for carriages, it still plays in my head.
An, Ocean side wedding the underscore a set of violins, just like how we said. A thousand years playing the first song we’d slow dance to, my head on your chest.
How, the world would stop as we’d share that moment, with few family and friends. Now, I’m sitting at home wallowing in your absence, I guess this is the end?
What am I to do,
Now…
Stayed by my phone the past few weeks, I’m losing your scent on these unwashed sheets, with each notification my heart skips a beat, I just wonder why’d you do this, how could I be so foolish…
I don’t wanna be thirty something with you in my head, now these darkened eyes are staring back at me, you took the light when you left, all alone with this music thinking, what if we’d never met…
Despite the pain you’re everything I wanted, so what if I call now, would you let my call play out…
So What are you doing now?
I’m honestly surprised by this poem myself—I don’t know who I channeled or where the inspiration came from, but here it is. Most of it flowed during a writing session, with that song playing in the background during the latter half. This is only my second attempt at writing from a woman’s perspective (my first was Just a Girl), but in my eyes, this is leaps and bounds above it.
If this piece resonated with you, let me know—or if you simply enjoyed the read, I’m grateful for your time and energy. It’s been a pleasure, as always.
Much love,
Rich
I ... Um... Had to pause after every stanza and look around. How can you write something so well that you haven't even experienced? It was overwhelmingly beautiful. All the rhymes were natural, full of meaning, like the last puzzle sliding into its position.
Everything you wrote are thoughts that I actually have regularly and you expressed them better than I ever could. It’s rare to find someone who has different perspectives and that can understand those things and that’s why you’re an amazing writer🧸