It happened on a Wednesday. You walked in all dressed in black, your ball cap turned back and a smile my brown eyes couldn’t turn away from. You shook my hand and my heart danced. Little by little I began to fall, but this time I was careful not to give it all. I held guard on my heart, but slowly you turned the key.
Those walls, you broke them down and never could I have known that you wouldn’t stick around. The way you held me, the way your lips touched mine, it’s all a memory now.
I roll over in the middle of the night and lay my hand on an empty pillow case and when I close my eyes I wish I didn’t still see your face. It hurts so bad because I don’t know why. No rhyme. No reason. No goodbye. You just disappeared like the sun into the midnight sky.
Sometimes I stop and think of you and I wish in that moment you were thinking of me too, but my broken heart knows better. You and me, I so badly wanted it to be forever. But I was simply a pawn in a game you were playing while you were thinking you could still do better.
Just a gentle reminder for those who need it….
“You know the crazy thing about love is the belief that it hurts. But it is not love that hurts us, it is the people we love that hurt us. You see, love in its truest form. Love that is raw and honest and genuine, it is an amazing thing and it shouldn’t have to be chased because if it’s really there it will find its way back to you. So let it be. And if it returns hold on for dear life, but if it doesn’t, know it is because that kind of love is still out there waiting for you.”
This weekend reminded me of what it was like to be young and innocent. It reminded me of butterflies, long goodbyes and laughing so hard your stomach hurts. But with those moments of happiness also comes the fear that is all too familiar. The fear of taking a leap of faith, putting yourself out there and having no idea how in the world how it’s going to end. Wanting to trust your heart when it’s telling you to let them in. To live in the moment and enjoy whatever it is that may come. And just when you can feel yourself begin to fall you remember the scars. The ones that still exist from a past better off forgotten. How do you take a heart that is still fragile and give it away in its most vulnerable form? It’s terrifying. Learning to once again give someone else the power to care for it, to nurture it, never being able to guarantee the outcome. It scares the hell out of me. It makes me want to turn and run and protect myself from it all.
I spent the last couple of nights trying to convince myself that it would be different this time around, but the truth is you’re never really gonna know. No one can really promise you forever. I mean sure they can say it, but how do they really know that 5 or 10 or even 20 years down the road they’ll still feel that way? They can’t guarantee it. No matter how hard they may want to try, there’s always a chance you’re going to get to hurt. I’ve come to the conclusion that what you really have to decide isn’t whether or not that person is going to hurt you, but whether or not the person standing there in front of you is worth the risk. If the memories you’re creating are worth more than the “what ifs.” And the only thing you can hope for is that they feel the same way about you in that moment that you do them. That they too have stood in your shoes and know all too well the feeling of pain and heartache and are just as afraid, yet they are willing to take the same risk. To stop living life and approaching love with one foot outside the door and like you, for first time in a long time jump with both feet all the way in.
Perhaps that is the reason our hearts are not made unbreakable. Maybe it is only once you’ve felt that kind of pain do you truly understand how to care for another. That you accept love fully only after you’ve lost it and understand the courage it takes to be given again. Because perhaps you never really learn how to love until you’ve been broken.