The thing about a broken heart is that you didn’t see it coming. One minute you’re fine, and the next, you’re shattered. You’re in pieces. You’re destroyed. You’re broken. The thing about a broken heart is that it doesn’t discriminate and it doesn’t question. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense and it doesn’t need to. One person changed their mind – and there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s no fighting it, no denying it, and nothing you can do to make him stay. He doesn’t love you anymore. Case closed. It’s over.
The thing about a broken heart is that it isn’t fair. You gave it your all. You tried. You were happy. But he wasn’t. He’s not. And he’s done. The thing about a broken heart is that it’s not a grey area – it’s as black and white as anything ever was. He loves you, he loves you not. It’s as easy as that. It’s not fair. It’s not right. And it hurts like a motherfucker.
The thing about a broken heart is that it’s enough to make you crazy; enough to make you lie on your bedroom floor and scream into pillows. It’ll make you go three days without washing your hair and two weeks without really eating. It’ll make you question every second, every moment, and every day that you spent together. It’ll make you question the kisses, the glances, and the “I love yous.” The thing about a broken heart is that it feels like you’re dying. Like you’re drowning in a sea of loneliness and only one person can save you. Only that one person — he doesn’t want you anymore. You’re broken. You’re deserted. You’re alone.
The thing about a broken heart is that it’s painful. It cuts like a knife in places you didn’t think it was possible to feel pain. You’ll ache. You’ll cry. You’ll reach out, but he won’t be there. Sometimes you’ll feel like screaming. Sometimes you’ll really do it. You’ll yell, and you’ll shake, and you’ll turn red with anger. You’ll cry the really ugly tears — the ones that make your eyes puffy for days and exhaust you until you fall asleep. The thing about a broken heart is that it’s not pretty. In fact, it’s ugly, very, very ugly.
The thing about a broken heart is that it makes you sick. It makes you feel deserted and abandoned and alone. You feel nauseous. You feel achy. You feel sore. You’ll miss his touch and his laugh and his smile. The thing about a broken heart is that makes you remember the good times over the bad. The happy memories trump the sad ones. You don’t think about the fights and the jealousy and the vindictiveness. You think of the laughter and the dancing and the passion. A memory will pop into your head and you’ll have to physically shake it to get it out of your mind. The thing about a broken heart is that it not only makes you feel like a crazy person, it makes you look like one too.
The thing about a broken heart is that you feel like you’ll never be whole again. Like you’re destined to live in a melancholy and monotonous state of unhappiness. You’ll feel alone. You’ll feel unwanted. You’ll feel desperate. The thing about a broken heart is that it’s enough to destroy you. But don’t let it.
You see, the thing about a broken heart is that it doesn’t last forever. The crying, and the screaming, and the yelling, and the anxiety, and the fear, and the loneliness, and the I-miss-him-so-fucking-much…it stops. It’s not in an instant and it’s not all at once. It takes time. It takes patience. It takes sleepless nights and hysterical mornings. It takes bad dreams and clutching onto his old t-shirt until you can no longer smell him. It takes getting rid of photos and deleting his number. It takes thirty seven drunk dials and twenty two unanswered texts. It takes embarrassment. It takes self-loathing. It takes a little bit of shame. The thing about a broken heart is that it will bring you to a low you never thought was possible. You’ll drive yourself crazy with the “what-ifs?” and you’ll question your sanity with some of your behavior. The thing about a broken heart is that you have to reach rock bottom before you can start to rebuild.
The thing about a broken heart is that after all of that — all of the hysterics and the Kleenex and the bad mistakes — you’ll wake up one day and start to feel whole again. You see, the thing about a broken heart is that it doesn’t have to ruin you. It teaches you; learn from it. Grieve. Cry. Lash out. But don’t let it keep you down. Don’t let it tarnish you. Don’t become cynical, and do not become jaded. The thing about a broken heart is that it’s enough to ruin you, but that doesn’t mean it has to. Pick up the pieces. Rebuild around you. Move on. The thing about a broken heart is that it doesn’t have to break you. At least not forever.