My Heart Is Broken, But I’m Not Bitter About It

Heartbreak is horrible. But it can also teach us lessons about ourselves and allow us to grow. The depths of despair can open up cracks through which new light can come in; fresh, unseen, different light.

Light that can shed a different shade on who we are and what we find important in life. A light in which we find our values and our truths; essential aspects of our lives that a little too often remain undiscovered under thick protective layers of love.

We so often alienate ourselves for the sake of love, for the rush, the recognition and our racing heartbeats. But how many times are we going to allow that to happen over and over again?

How much do we need to endure in order to see that love isn’t actually all you need? That love really isn’t worth giving up ourselves for? That love can be beautiful, but only when balanced?

I’ve decided to not let heartbreak make me bitter, but to try to learn from it and be grateful for the opportunity to develop into the person I want to be – as hard as the piercing pain it might make.

I’ve realized that it takes life’s hard lessons to see what we’re made of and to understand what we don’t want our lives to be made up of. In the light of growth I wish to open up and share what my heartbreak has brought me: gratitude.

This is our story – the story that rocked, shook, and saved me.

From the very first moment I knew something was off, something wasn’t right. I knew, I felt, I sensed that you were a piece of work, an incomplete piece of art, a masterwork that needed a missing piece. And I thought I could be that missing piece; fill up the void and make you whole. But I should’ve known better, since you already made me cry on that very first night.

You were so intense, so present, so everything I had craved that you hit me right in my core. And because of this, your disappearance left me intensely heartbroken.

And the stupid thing is that we only spent one week together.

One week of drinks, dates, and dozing off together; especially the latter was something extremely rare for me. Until you came, saw, and conquered me with your fucked up, but oh so fascinating personality.

You gave everything up for me that week — no friends, no calls, no meetings. I was everything you wanted and I turned your life upside down. You were blown away and I was thunderstruck. We walked around holding hands, introduced each other to friends we casually met, and thought we could rule the world together. We did, we really did, just for a moment there.

The way you continuously dropped your cigarettes was telling for how overwhelmed you were. I affected you and this had never happened to you before. And you were loving every minute of it. And so was I, besides being scared shitless and not getting my head around us when we were apart.

I couldn’t help but wonder what I was supposed to do with you. With your intense, all-piercing, all-disturbing presence. You were too close for comfort from the get go — and then you were nowhere to be seen.

It started when you had some time for yourself, you were away, at a distance. You started thinking, your mind started intervening, and your passion turned into petrification. My power scared you, my beauty overthrew you, and my intelligence impressed you. I was too much to handle and so you let it slide. You silently retreated into your dark cave, that incomplete space where you felt numbly comfortable.

I was too much light all at once and that made you squint until your eyes hurt. I was too good to be true — and maybe so were you. It was too much, too fast, and too fierce. It could only hit the rocks as you so prophetically stated. You wouldn’t allow yourself to have it all and so you automatically robbed me from that privilege as well.

But I want to thank you ducking out. For allowing me to see you for who you really are; a boy that fell head over heels for a woman of grandeur. And even though she saw this same grandeur in him, he wouldn’t have any of it. And so he saved her from embarking on yet another sinking ship.

I want to thank you for giving up so soon, for not letting it drag on, making me fall even deeper and hurting my heart even harder. Thank you for disappearing and disappointing, because it allowed me to see that I was giving in to something incomplete for the mere sake of love and attention.

Yes, I crave them both with my whole being — and apparently at every cost. So thank you for not letting me fall in that trap again and saving me from losing myself in a dysfunctional love.

Thank you for being immature, imbalanced, and unstable. Thank you for showing me right away that this was never going to work. Thank you for doing your magic trick of disappearing into thin air and leaving me with empty hands. Thank you for making me cry, hurt, and struggle. It has all been of great benefit.

I want to thank you for aborting prematurely, I truly do. Even though we both know that our hearts would have loved to devour each other completely. To squeeze all the blood out and chew on the last pieces until there would be nothing left for either of us — and we’d both be heartless, empty, and hopeless.

So thank you for not being able to love me; you’ve saved me from myself.