Perhaps nothing is more humbling, nothing reminds you more of your humanity, than heartbreak.

For in many ways, heartbreak is death— death of the person you were when you were with them. Death of the future you could have had together. Death of the container the relationship was built in and all the beautiful, twisted connections it housed.

But there, in the darkest depths of your heart, in the tears that stain your cheeks, in the dullness of your present day, in your bathroom floor rock bottom, in the empty side of the bed, in the absence of a good morning text, in the void that they’ve left in their wake, you find you, and you are very much alive.

Heartbreak is not the breaking of your heart. It is evidence that it is firing on all cylinders. Your heart aches, heavy in your chest, numbing the rest of your body, yet it doesn’t break. It was built to endure.

No matter how many times your mind replays the last conversation, the first conversation, the first kiss, the last kiss; no matter how many times it reminds you of all the reasons you needed to leave and yet tries to convince you to keep fighting; no matter how much your mind tries to tell you to go back, your heart keeps beating because it knows the only way is forward.

Follow your heart forward. Take with you all the scars it’s endured, and paint them with gold. Your heart aches now, but someday it won’t. That day is not today, but it is on its way. Little by little, you go on. Never forgetting, never regretting, forever adorned with your heart of gold that serves as evidence that you’ve lived fully, you loved unconditionally, and you are stronger than ever before.