The Topic of the Day: Heartbreak

Okay, I'm a girl. I like to talk about love, and almost just as much, I like to talk about love gone awry. It's ingrained in me. As wonderful as being in love feels, heartbreak is like a bruise, and you just can't help yourself from poking at it. It doesn't really matter how happy or unhappy you are with your current state of affairs (Hey, I've been married six months, and I'm happy, and I love my husband madly, just in case you were wondering,) when your heart is broken, there is a tiny piece that becomes irreparable. Anyone who says there isn't is a bold faced liar, and I challenge them to a dual. Mostly because I've always wanted to say that.

When people around me end relationships, I always find myself examining my loves-gone-by and all the (surprisingly many) times my heart has been broken. I don't know why I do it. Maybe it's a good way of keeping myself grounded in that, life's not perfect and can push you face down in the mud at the same time it's lifting you up, way. Maybe it's because there are inevitably happy memories floating around in those dark times, and maybe it's because it makes me appreciate The Gnome, for being a great husband, and a great friend. Neither of which matters as much as the fact he has the unfailing habit of telling the truth and trying to do the right thing. A trait that took me 27 years of jerks, cowards, morons, and the occasional good-but-not-good-enough guys to realize just MIGHT be important.

The last time my heart was broken (oh, I'm sure we ALL remember that...) I honestly thought my world was ending. I had literally decided that it was all over, that I would live alone for the rest of my days. Dramatic? Probably. Healthy? Not a chance. Absolutely necessary and normal reaction for getting cheated on? Duh. Little did I know that a mere 1 month and 20 days later I would meet my future husband. What turned out to be the worst year of my life, also happened to be the best one. Go figure. I tried things that year, I learned things that year, and I experienced things that year that I would have never done if my heart had been left as it was.

These were all great things, but what stands out most to me was the incredible outpouring of support, love, shoulders to cry on, crusades to get me drunk, and people to listen to me wail about the unfairness of it all. I simply cannot think how I would have gotten through that time without my friends. That being said, I always strive to do the same thing when someone else, guy OR girl, gets their heart stomped on. Mostly I'm good for the getting drunk part. Occasionally I'll let you cry on my shoulder as long as I'm not wearing silk or it's going to ruin my good time.

I had a lot of people around me to give me good advice and to listen to me. I had a lot of people there who could distract me from the things that happened, and that could help me put my life back together one little bit at a time. I was blessed. But the one thing I will never forget is the two weeks my parents took me on vacation to the East Coast with them. I fought this tooth and nail until the very last minute, because it was originally planned as a vacation for four, which quickly turned into a vacation for two normal people and one crying puffy eyed miserable mess of a person. It was, hands down, two of the best weeks of my life. I will never forget what they did for me, and will always be grateful for my parents and the people on that trip for making me get out there and live my life again. I'm most grateful to my Dad though, who gave me this one bit of advice that I am certain he did not realize would affect me in such a way.

One day, you wake up next to the person you love and you think to yourself, there is NO ONE, not one single person, I could ever love as much as I love them. And then everything and everyone that came before them just seems to not matter anymore.

Funny thing, at the time I didn't believe him, but this morning, when I woke up, everything and everyone before just didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

Guess sometimes your parents really DO know what they're talking about.

And on that note, it's something I always share with the broken hearted. It turns out that the single best thing that person who broke my heart ever did for me was just that, breaking my heart, and giving me the freedom to be the person I turned out to be. Lucky Me.