This heart of mine has gone through some rough patches. It has been scarred, shattered, stepped on and often times broken. Sometimes our hearts feel the need to give up. It makes no sense trying to mend it without the risk of putting it in the hands of someone who might break it again.
Heartbreak is one stupid cycle I always find myself getting into. I get my heart broken, I feel lonely, I meet someone who I think will fix my broken heart, and then disappointment comes and my heart gets even more broken.
Even the smallest of situations can break my heart. And I think that’s when I realized that I’ll always be a little heartbroken, no matter how much I tell myself otherwise.
I’ve accepted the fact that I am scarred. My heart is not as gold and untarnished as it used to be. I always thought that I had a heart of stone, that no one could hurt me. That I could pick myself up after getting hurt. But after constantly being let down by people who make you believe in love again, your heart just dies. Every. Single. Time.
It’s a scary thing to give your all to someone who wouldn’t lift a finger for you. You can never runaway from heartbreak. You will always get your heart broken in all different forms of love.
But the first step of healing our brokenness, which took me a long time to realize, is to accept the fact that it is broken.
Every time someone breaks your heart, see it as a learning process. In spite of all the pain it puts us through, we learn one valuable thing about ourselves, we never give up on love.
Love is always a gift even if it ends painfully. I know that this broken heart of mine is a strong heart. Because being able to love again despite all the pain I put my heart through is the bravest thing I could ever do.