I Was Heartbroken!
I was brokenhearted.
We have all been at least once brokenhearted.
However I have experienced a heartbreak that changed the trajectory of my whole life.
That heartbreak engraved fear within me.
I was scared I would never come back as the person I was before having my heartbroken.
I feared the inability to love again, to love myself and especially to love another person.
I was terrified of the person I might become and mostly I feared the unbearable healing process because I knew I wasn’t going to be easily healed.
I realised my past destructive love to you wasn’t a mere bad dream that would vanish in the morning.
The love has ended but the aftermath was only the beginning and so I was terrified.
My fractured pieces terrified me.
I didn’t like that incomplete image of myself.
It felt as though a major part of me had been left somewhere impossible to reach.
I mourned my old whole self like a mother mourning her deceased child.
People say time heals all wounds and I agree to a certain extent that time is indeed a miraculous thing for without it nothing would progress.
However time didn’t heal my wounds but time has helped me accept it.
It took me a while to realise that I was never going to be my old self again.
The person I was before being heartbroken was long gone.
She’s only an illusionary image that I kept reviving in my own head from time to time.
I longed for her but she never longed for me because she doesn’t exist anymore.
Nonetheless she was an essential part of my journey because I wouldn’t have transformed to who I am today without her.
With time I have even realised that I don’t want to be her again.
Her completeness was only weakness in disguise.
I also feared that my healing process was also an illusion.
That my healing might never take place and only transcends.
My pain is merging with my happiness and together it’s creating an astounding state of being and so I have transformed from heartbroken to beautifully broken.
I love the person I am now more than I ever did my entire life.
Love starts with acceptance and only when I accepted myself as broken have I truly started protecting and loving myself.
I suddenly found completeness in my incomplete image.
I accepted my broken pieces, scattered as it is and I’m not opting to pick up the pieces.
I’m aware that I might never find that missing part of me again.
It was lost for a good reason and I’m trying to decipher that reason.
That empty space within me is meant to stay empty and it’s beautiful.
I‘m that space.
I‘m that emptiness.
I‘m that beauty.
This incompleteness translates my dismal memories, my bittersweet past and my endurance and I don’t want it to be taken away from me.
It has transformed from an irrational fear to a strong part of my identity and I’m proud of it.
My broken pieces are the testimony of my delicacy and the evidence of my resilience.
I see it dispersed around me and I want to dance on it barefoot.
I want to hold it close to my heart, throw it up in the air and feel it descending on me like heavy drops of rain.
I only hope that whoever falls in love with me will also fall in love with my broken pieces.