Is it true that everyone has had their heart broken at least once before? Do we all have that one person that destroyed us for a time, betrayed our trust and our love? Perhaps there are two types of people: the heart breakers and the broken hearted. But I think that it would be unfair to brand someone so singularly. I guess we could have been both.
I write this now as I ponder the topic of broken hearts as I am surrounded by them and think back to a time when I too had been left destroyed, shattered into fragments of my former self with no sense of identity, worth or place. Before I was old enough to even think about love and relationships, I looked to my parents who divorced when I was 4. I guess I never really had the role models to show me what love was and to teach me how to commit to another person. Perhaps for that reason, I had my guard up from day one, with everybody I met. Friends, family, colleagues, boyfriends. I didn't trust anybody to stick around. I know this was unfair of me. Despite the divorce, both parents have always been devoted to my siblings and I and not a day passes that I doubt their love for us, but in the back of mind, I always had this niggling voice telling me that commitment doesn't always last and that one day, everything could change. Before my current boyfriend, I only ever surrendered myself once to another person, full-heartedly and entirely, which as luck would have it, is the beginning of the story of how I got my heart broken. From then on, I never wanted to let anyone have the power to destroy me like that again. I would never allow anyone in far enough to do that. I guess in some obscured way I blamed myself for a lapse in judgement when perhaps the reasoning was far more to do with the individual than it was to do with me. I know how it feels to choke on your own tears, desperate to suppress the sobs in fear of betraying the silence. I know what it's like to paint your face with happiness, to lie to everyone you know and pretend that you're okay. I know the feeling of inadequacy and hurt like the badges of honour on a scout and I know the deep misery of feeling as though love is a myth and that I am unworthy of such a thing. Having now finally come out at the other side, I look back on these feelings and wince with a raw pain that feels as fresh as though it was yesterday, and so I sympathise with those around me that are currently going through such turmoil. There is a ray of sunshine to the story. Since being with Michael, I have been to places I have always wanted to go, laughed until my sides hurt and generally felt a sense of belonging. So perhaps all of us have been heartbroken. Maybe some of us have even been the heart breakers. But in the end, I guess the real thing is waiting for us. It may not be today, or tomorrow, or even a year from now. But it exists, this sense of belonging. And I promise you, it's worth the heartache.
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