A muted ache

A muted ache and a confused heaviness. That's what I feel. 

Trying to decide if the reason I'm not crippled by pain is because I don't really believe the signs, or because I've been desensitised. Been hurt so deeply so often that I barely flinch these days when he brutally grabs and rips at my heart. I hardly have tears left to shed.
These a measure of anger at being so publicly humiliated. But thankfully the Lord has numbed me somewhat so that the heartbreak no longer stops by breathing. No longer brings me to my knees.
It's no answer though.
I need to move on.
He fools me into thinking all is fine.
All is not fine and I don't think it could ever be again.

Sensitivity subjectivity

There's sensitive skin. And then there's skin sensitive from shaffing. There are sensitive people who allow their feelings to be hurt by any little thing. And then there are feelings that have been bashed in repeatedly. My heart is scraped raw from you dragging it on the ground behind you. Carelessly or maliciously? I don't know.
Like a toddler tossing aside a toy that was once a favourite, but who is now infuriated at merely being reminded of its existence.
What a confusing experience: the icy shock of a burning slap. The lightheaded sensation of sinking heart. Choking on tears while silent screams ring through my head.
My heart breaks so loudly and echos through my hollow gut. But still you don't notice.
And that's why I always wonder. Am I just over sensitive?