I promised myself I wouldn't love again. The pain of a broken heart was unbearable. Yet we pick ourselves up and tell ourselves, "Everything is going to be alright. I won't make the same mistakes again..."
But what does our emotions do to us when we meet someone? Someone we can talk to and share thoughts and opinions with? Who we get to know on a deep and more personal level? To somehow make a connection with another living soul? We then feel compassion for that person. We care about them. We feel the desirable need to let them know that someone out in the wide world understands them. But when it's someone who has been hurt. Broken. Practically shattered. You feel that much closer to them. Because who better to understand a shattered heart than another? But then when things begin to feel serious, for one or the other, things go wrong. Doubt pokes it's ugly face around the corner and causes a total cluster ****
I have been judged, bullied, beaten, threatened, cheated, and lied to. Yet I still stand. Pieces left behind by those who thought, "There has got to be someone better..." But what if you don't find better? What if what you had was perfect? What if? The sad thing about this? I still carry a little piece of you everywhere I go. These blessed and cursed memories. The little pieces left behind...
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 8:20 AM UTC
I promised myself I wouldn't love again. The pain of a broken heart was unbearable. Yet we pick ourselves up and tell ourselves, "Everything is going to be alright. I won't make the same mistakes again..."
But what does our emotions do to us when we meet someone? Someone we can talk to and share thoughts and opinions with? Who we get to know on a deep and more personal level? To somehow make a connection with another living soul? We then feel compassion for that person. We care about them. We feel the desirable need to let them know that someone out in the wide world understands them. But when it's someone who has been hurt. Broken. Practically shattered. You feel that much closer to them. Because who better to understand a shattered heart than another? But then when things begin to feel serious, for one or the other, things go wrong. Doubt pokes it's ugly face around the corner and causes a total cluster ****
I have been judged, bullied, beaten, threatened, cheated, and lied to. Yet I still stand. Pieces left behind by those who thought, "There has got to be someone better..." But what if you don't find better? What if what you had was perfect? What if? The sad thing about this? I still carry a little piece of you everywhere I go. These blessed and cursed memories. The little pieces left behind...
