Relection on a Broken Heart

It amazes me that just last year I was heartbroken, miserable, and in search of that light that had made my life so much brighter, so much more glorious---until it left, went out. Once it was gone, in my pain, in my weakness, I did not realize just how much I admired it...depended on it even. The glow I had grown to love and accept as a part of my life was gone and I was alone.

I was in love once...even as I write these words I ask myself if I truly was in love. What does it truly mean to be "in love"? If I had been in love, wouldn't that mean the feeling was mutual and he would have felt the same way I did? Is it possible to be "in love" when only one person out of two, only a counterpart feels that way and the other does not? For in my case, I loved him. I loved him without hesitation, question, or concern of consequences. I would have given the world to him, waited a lifetime to be in his arms. When I was with him nothing mattered---his feelings and emotions came first and oh how so easy it was to fall for him...how impossible it was not to. I loved him, and yet he did not love me, for he easily let me go and let materialistic aspects of life take my place. I loved him, but I have not been loved---and that makes all of the difference.

So, no I have not been in love, but I have loved.

I have loved with my soul, with my being, with the best of me. Just the same, I have loved poorly, selfishly, and with the worst of my nature. I have come to realize that love, just like everything else in life requires practice, and patience. The first romance is always the sweetest, and the hardest, even at times the most painful...but never the last. Since I have started dating---holding and losing relationships---I realize that in love all things have a purpose, all people play a role. During my heart break it was difficult to see that, my pain and confusion blinding me, clouding my vision---though deep down I knew that everything would be okay and I would pull through this. It was not knowing the "when" I would pull through that made things hard. Even still, I did. It took 7 months, but I came out alive.

And that is the crazy part about being heartbroken: it doesn't kill you even when it feels like it can, or that it should. It doesn't kill you, but instead opens your eyes and lets you grow. It helps you understand that when relationships die, there is always better out there, or worse---and you will come across both.

In the end it was not meant to be. We weren't meant to be.

I even dare to say that it was for the best. For, why would any sensible, mature, and intelligent person want to deal with a liar and a person who does not know what they want---but they know this much: they don't want you or love, but lust and a brief affair. If it is not love, then what do you want? If it is not meaningful, what else matters? I have grown and have come to accept the fact that I am not looking for, nor do I need, an immature man as my partner...or a confused man at that. Each time I have encountered such a type of man, my emotions were overlooked, my feelings and trust abused, and the ship of my heart sank to the ocean floor in flames. And still, I love men and respect men---but only the good ones. Besides, how can I or any other woman hate "all" men when we haven't met all men? I remain optimistic and refuse to become any other way.

The whole reason I am writing this is because last night I came across a reminder of the man who broke my heart, a powerful and literal reminder that I could not ignore for I had written it myself. Before me was an entry on my thoughts, my feelings...all created by him and made for him. The entry was one I had honestly forgotten about, yet the memories that the entry entailed were still locked in my mind. I read it and as I read, I realized that some things I had forgotten---I had captured each moment and emotion of myself a year ago perfectly into what is now a verbal photograph. Each word I read brought back the images of the memories in my my mind...I had been happy once, passionate and carefree, I had loved once.

I had also been so adorably stupid.

It is funny to me now, looking back, reading about my past and how I gave my heart to someone who never wanted it from the start. Of course, had I known who he was, I wouldn't have---but the thing is that I didn't know...and so as I read a chapter of my past, I could only shake my head and tell myself that with time I can only become more wiser, and hopefully the men will too. It is clear to me that I did love him, for him and not for superficial reasons that other girls, who were immature, could think of---one in which he dated once we broke up. But maybe, just maybe I should have known better, somehow, and save myself the hell of a 7-month heartache.

But what good would that have done?

What would I have learned if my love life, or my life in general, had been made easy? If there wasn't any hurt or pain, dirt thrown in my eyes, how would I grow? I have to give it to him, to the man that broke my heart a year ago, for he taught me things. He taught me what to look for next time around, and what not to waste my time on. He taught me what not to do to my partners and gave me a clearer image on what love truly is and how valuable honesty, consideration, and communication are. He gave me my first up-close-and personal lesson on what it means to be heartbroken, how it feels. It is hard to explain a broken heart...a heavy weight in your chest...a feeling that seems to grip and clutch at your throat so that it is hard to breathe...you don't feel like yourself, but rather like a shell, an empty vessel...for a brief moment you feel dead, and slowly life finds it way back to you and you are steady once again.

From my own heartbreak, I taught myself that love is not a game and people's emotions are more fragile and delicate than people allow themselves to think and consider. By being so carelessly and badly hurt, I taught myself to be more gentle with people, to tread carefully through flowing emotions...and it does matter the circumstance, I will not abuse a man's emotions. I do not play games and I don't have time for those who do.

I am not expecting my revelation to make life easier for me, or to keep me from crossing paths with those less serious than I, but I do know that it will help me react better in those situations and I will know what to with myself, and when to let go.