Is it better to be broken-hearten or to never have known what that feels like? All I know is that I don't wish anyone to have to feel that. The pain of it can still feel unbearable. The only difference is that now that feeling lasts for a minute, sometimes five, whereas it used to last months. Time has worn a dense, sinewy scar over the wound of which will never go away.
Though I can say with certainty that it is absolutely better to have loved and given of myself entirely than not loved at all. The flame of Love is ecstatic. Better to have stumbled than never have walked at all. (Not sure when I started speaking in Proverbs, but there you go. Sometimes it fits.)
A friend said recently upon the revelation that her heart was breaking: "Love is the light you shine, not the object you illuminate." I know this now.
In theory, I am over him. But that means I should probably start dating again instead of avoiding men altogether; or sabotaging perfectly nice relationships that have potential, if only I'd stick around a little longer.
It's not that I even want to go back to him. God no, it's completely destroyed. It's just that, clearly, I'm still fixing up all the pieces that never quite go back into the same spots they were before. Shattered and jagged.
I suppose that is what I have to realize, that I can't be "fixed." Who I was before doesn't exist the same way anymore. I just have to start from now, bits and all. Stitched, plastered and welded together. I want to feel love again. "Spark, by irreplaceable spark," I promise I will let that tiny spark catch the tinder of my heart again.
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