Dear Heartsick,

I've come to know your cousin, Heartbreak, quite well over the years. When he shows up now I know exactly what to expect, how to handle him, and, like an unwanted houseguest, how to finally, mercifully, bid him adieu.
But you, Heartsick.
You're a different animal.
There's a deeper, darker element to you. A knife-in-the-gut wrenching. You're born from rejection, of course. But you require coldness and betrayal to fully take root. Then you feed off secrets and lies, misunderstandings and judgments.
But how you really flourish, Heartsick, or rather metastasize, is when the love that has been offered is belittled and dismissed. When with shrugged shoulders it is declared just an idea and you'll be fine. After all this. After all that. That is when your branches block out the last glimpse of light. That is when you do your worst, Heartsick. Leaving pulp and bones and tears. So job well done. Now please let me be.

Sincerely,
PC