Broken Hearts and Polliwogs

I'm experiencing a touch of broken heart. Every day I try to shake it or at least push through, but it's slow going. My mind strays to memories and I have to keep redirecting myself to the present or try to think of ways that I can improve my future.

I hop on my new bike and pedal along, John Mayer singing in my ear, "Say what you need to say.... with heart wide open....," I listen to it endlessly, which doesn't make much sense because I'm actually trying to quiet the voice in my head, the one that hits me unexpectedly with these razor-sharp flashes of regret that steal my breath away and make my chest tight. In the evening, after my kids have gone to bed, I sit on the couch and begin the evening's cry; my eyes leak and leak until I feel as if I could fill a pool with my tears. Self-pity disgusts me, I don't want to wallow, but the tears continue to flow. It is really rather frustrating.

At night, I dream of swimming, swimming along in a one-piece suit, a funny rubber cap on my head. I'm with a group of women and we are racing along, trying to slice through the cold water, trying to make it to the other side. Am I trying to outswim the tears or is my dream telling me to let them flow, that tears are good and water will heal me?
I keep coming back to a day last August, this is one of those memories that gets me, I come back to this day when my beloved and I hiked up along the basalt rock of the creekside. I think it was my Best Day. I want to remember it without hurting. I want to treasure it again, to hold it and let the warmth of that day flow over me.
This weekend will be warm and soon it will be summer and I can go back to the creek. I'll bare my shoulders to the sun and they will freckle. I'll float along on my raft and wade in the water with my girls, sending polliwogs scattering as we step carefully on smooth, slick stones.