When I was 18 I fractured my pinky
riding my Huffy bike from my dorm to my vet tech class
I sat there in class for the next two hours
in horrified silence
not wanting to leave
I couldn't miss class
My hand turned from a beige to a lovely shade of indigo
like I had dipped the right side of my right hand in a vat of ink

That pain was nothing

When I was 20 I unceremoniously jumped from a mustang named Spirit
Fracturing my leg, the only thing keeping it attached was the muscle, tendons, and skin
But even that had been broken by a white bone
I cried and cried

That pain was nothing

See for a fractured finger or leg
You receive attention, and help
doctors crowd around you and inject you with morphin
and prescribe hydrocodine
to numb the pain
so that you can be put together again and heal
eventually forgetting why you cried in the first place

But what about a broken heart?
No one comes
and you are the only who feels that it would have been better had you been shot, because then you would know why you feel this way
there would be evidence of your pain
and a reminder that you used to be whole
not just a shade of who you once were
people wouldn't tell you to get over it
that you just need to think about something else

This pain is everything