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Process of Mending Your Broken Heart

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Isn’t it awful how little there is in this lifetime worse than the loss of love? It’s the loss of a piece of yourself that makes you question and fumble in the dark for all the other pieces.

It’s terrible; and I never quite realized how terrible it was until somewhat recently. It was terrible enough to make me question the point of getting out of bed in the morning. Terrible enough to make me drop five pounds because I could barely eat. Terrible enough to make me discover a level of grief I didn’t know I was capable of experiencing.

When it comes to love, I think there are two types of disappointment: the kind that stings for a few days, but empowers you to hold out for something greater, and the kind that breaks you down and makes you question whether or not you were ever strong to begin with.

But I assure you, you are strong. The very act of loving and allowing yourself to be loved, no matter the risk, is one of the bravest and strongest acts of all. Despite the mistakes and regrets, I hope you at least don’t regret opening yourself to love. You may have had something that was wonderful and transcendent for a time, but as much as it sucks, the universe has a way of teaching us hard lessons because it’s the only way we’ll learn them. We can’t always have what we want, and good things don’t last forever.

I’m not here to tell you how to feel or what to think. That’s nearly impossible. Emotions demand to be felt, so fucking feel them. Cry. Scream. Swear your face off. Stay in bed half the day. Mope. Drunk text. Make a few unwise and emotion-fueled decisions. Cry more. Think about getting dressed and then decide to watch Netflix and eat chocolate instead. Listen to sad music. Listen to angry music. Wonder why. Wonder how. Wonder what.

As time goes on, the overall crappiness becomes less intense until it eventually slips further and further away. But please know that you cannot escape from grief no matter how hard you try. Losing a love can be just as tragic and life-altering as the death of a friend or family member. Never let anyone tell you you’re not allowed to grieve. It will happen, and it will happen in waves. You’ll have days where you think you’re finally over it and days where you have to pick yourself up off the floor again.

Love changes you. It embeds itself into your bloodstream.

You can live your life and find love again without fully abandoning the memory of the love you once lost.

This can be a beautiful thing – like a dusty stuffed animal you once adored, but have since grown apart from. You can’t seem to get rid of it, for it’s a strange comfort to know that it’s there and part of your history.

Your history is important. Your story is important. Every piece of your story molds you into the person you are meant to become. Without pain, we cannot appreciate joy. Without struggles, we cannot appreciate success.

It is my sincerest hope that you find the kind of love you’re looking for someday. You deserve it, and you are worthy of it. It may take time, fear, doubt, pain, and a shitload of mistakes, but I hope you look into his or her eyes someday and come to appreciate every scar that came before. Your scars are what make you ready for that kind of love. They will connect like dots and lead up to that person like an illuminated path.

I know it hurts right now. For me, there isn’t a day that goes by where it doesn’t hurt in some capacity. But I hope you remember the love instead of the hurt. I hope you find gratitude and forgiveness, the two hardest and most important things to find at this time. And lastly, I hope the pain reminds you that you’re alive and have an astonishingly vast capacity to love. Just imagine how epic it will be when that love is projected towards the right person instead of the wrong one.

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