How to Mend a Broken Heart by JC Reilly First, collect all the synonyms you can think of for broken: busted, fissured, ruptured, smashed, crumbled, tattered, shredded, cracked. There are more. Find them. They may crouch under the couch, mildew in a pair of stinky All-Stars, cram a jar of crunchy peanut butter, crawl along the west wall in your garden where the night-blooming jasmine flourishes, sway in the branches of the oak tree where a pair of squirrels chase each other, creep like ants at the foot of Flournoy Hill, where the two of you lay in switchgrass and dandelions and watch the clouds shift into rabbits or sailboats, swirl like the onion domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral, which reminds you of Dairy Queen, of the time you licked white, cold sweetness off each other’s noses, that silly ice cream duel, and the downpour that started right as you left, and how, even soaked as a runaway river, you couldn’t stop laughing, swept away in laughter, the wet no more a nuisance than an eyelash. Have you found them? Yes? Stuff them into the pocket of your jeans and throw them into a wash. What comes out of the dryer: a clean pair of jeans and a ball of frayed paper whose ink has disappeared with the Tide. Throw it out, or throw it to the cat to play with, but it’s nothing. And your heart? Whole again, little melon in your chest, to keep or give as you will. Gyroscope Review 21 !