Thursday, August 18, 2016
Love Lounge: Thoughts on Broken Hearts
Can your heart break when it's never even been broken in the first place?
I know, it sounds like some cheesy country ballad, but just hear me out for a hot second. I want love. I want that passion that comes with finding The One and even though I haven't found said One yet, my heart still feels broken sometimes. Does that make any kind of sense? Is it some kind of preemptive strike, a way of shielding my own heart from letting anyone else reach it or even get close to it?
If I'm being honest (and let's face it, when am I NOT honest on this blog??), guys have succeeded in breaking my heart in the past, even if they weren't aware of it. There have been guys who have found their way into my heart and pretty much just took up residence there. To their credit, I'm pretty sure all of this was in no way intentional; heck, they probably had no idea that they were having such an effect on me, but alas, the emotions were intense. They ran rampant. On my end, at least. And yet, there was really no justifiable reason to feel like my heart was shattering into a million tiny shards of glass -- what had these guys even done to me? Nothing, really. I'm the one who got attached, probably too attached, too soon, and I was probably thinking with my heart more than with my head -- you all know that I have a tendency to do that on occasion.
From the outside, it looks like my heart is full and perfectly intact, and on most days, it is. But there are certainly other days when that protective shield isn't so, well, shield-y. It's on days like this that the "flaws" begin to peek through. Because in my heart -- and probably in everyone's heart, for that matter? There are cracks. There are scars. And there are bruises that may never heal, no matter how much time has passed. Maybe every beat of my heart has a story to tell, a past that made it what it is today. Does that make any sort of sense?
I suppose it doesn't help that I'm listening to Sheriff's "When I'm With You" on repeat as I type this -- seriously, I can feel the beginnings of little teardrops forming in my eyes. Must. Not. Cry.
That's what I tell myself, at least, about the whole crying thing. It works well some days and not-so-well on other days. It's a work-in-progress, though, and I'm sure that has to count for something...right?
[Photos via We Heart It]