I am not a doctor, but if heartbreak were a vaccine, I would recommend you to get it. I do not want to sound cynical, but to be completely honest, heartbreaks suck… but they are also amazing.
And this is coming from a girl who labels herself as a hopeless romantic.
I grew up believing that love is the most magical thing in the world. With the wonders of Cinderella and Snow White, I thought that I, too, will be swept off my feet some day soon and be saved from the horrors of the world.
So, when guys I dated would tell me that one day, I will be their wife and the mother of their children, I thought “Great. My life is solved.” I would put my commitment to them. Be the most loyal girlfriend a boy could ask for, make them lunches for work and bring them hot chocolate to their rehearsals. I would brush away the things they did that hurt me because I thought “they love me. They care for me. Why would they hurt me on purpose?”
Until one day, they decided that while they see me in their future, I am not their priority. They left me in an empty subway station. They made me feel worthless.
And that is when I got heart broken. That is when I went through the 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance.
I denied my heart break for a few months, telling myself that I was fine. That I was going to find someone new soon and quick. That I was not hurt. That my ex boyfriend was a bad person who did not care about me and he will miss me one day.
I felt empowered, but for the wrong reasons. I thought I was incredible for enduring the relationships I went through. That I was a survivor.
I was denying the fact that inside, I wasn’t a survivor, because truly, I was not surviving this heartbreak.
By the winter, I began to be angry. I tweeted angrily about my ex-boyfriend, thinking it would be ok. Thinking that I was right. Until, he reached out and pointed out that I was being petty.
By late winter, I started to go through depression. While I thought that I was getting over my heartbreak quickly, I truly missed the person I used to be when I was with him. I began to bargain, telling myself that if I had just tried harder, been less uptight, been more loving, it would have all worked out.
I thought it was my fault that he broke up with me and that I was left in the subway station, crying and alone, wishing someone was there to help me.
So, by the end of spring, when he reached out and asked me for another chance, I gave it to him. I thought I deserved another chance. And, it was good. He was loving. He was sweet, until I started to see his old side come back.
Still, there was that odour of bargaining lingering in the room. There was my heart telling me that I was wrong and that he may love me, but he still hurt me.
I loved him so much, but love is not always enough.
He loved me in his own way, a way that exists in his world. That world was a place I never could enter. He lived in a jungle, and I lived in a fantastical realm. During this whole year of getting over him, I thought I should become a panther. But, I was born to be a dragon.
And that is when I accepted the fact that I was truly heartbroken. Sometimes, you don’t have to be with someone to truly love them. Sometimes, you have to let them go. Let them live in their world, because they would not survive in yours, and you would not survive in theirs.
At that moment, my heartbreak, as dark as it is often perceived by everyone around us, became the lighthouse of my life. It became my liberty. It was the hand that helped me in the subway station, with my puffy eyes and smudged mascara, and the mouth that told me to go live my life.
And now, thanks to my ex-boyfriend, and the love that I learned to give to him, the chances that we took, and the heartbreak that I accepted, I became the person I have always wanted to be. It was the shattered glass that showed me a complete reflection of who I am.
A hopeless romantic and a girl that will live her dreams.
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