Tuesday, August 30, 2011

2 Cents on Broken Hearts


ten things i learned from my last broken heart
1) It's possible to be a little heartbroken for a long time.  Once, we were almost something, but only almost and only for a little while.  If my calculations are correct, I should therefore have felt only a little sad and only for a short time.  But that broken-hearted feeling continued ebbing and flowing in intensity long after I would have expected it to cease.  Ridiculous!  This mourning period is completely out of proportion to what actually occurred between us, I scolded myself.  But all I could really do is sigh and wait for time to pass:  there’s a reason why art is full of longing that lasts. 


2) You don’t have to change your hair.  It’s so tempting to convey that “screw you” message with a drastic haircut.  I never had that desire this time, though.  To the casual observer, it looks the same as it did when he ran his fingers through it, but, in fact, I’m growing it out longer.  I’m at this moment picturing my hair billowing around me in a light beach-side breeze.  Like in those magazine ads.  
3) Resist, when you can, the temptation to check Facebook 56 times a day.  He may have seen that picture of me in my pretty new dress and been filled with jealous longing.  Or he may have x-ed me out of his news feed.  The internet is just rotten, anyway, and takes “waiting by the phone” to a whole different maddeningly frustrating and unfulfilling level.  
4) Try not to date anyone who drives a popular model car.  That familiar car turning into my neighborhood that made my heart pound?  Just a neighbor.  
5) Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts.  Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.  Ok, I stole that from that YouTube video and not Kurt Vonnegut. (The rotten internet has some uses.)  But the truth and poignancy of these simple statements resonate nonetheless. “Reckless” is a good word because sometimes what happens is not willfully or intentionally malicious: it’s caused by cowardice or fear or immaturity or selfishness.  But it’s heart-breaking all the same, however the breaking was done.  

6) A 75-degree day can happen in February.  In the middle of a cold and dark winter, at a time when I wasn’t sure if we would ever talk again, he called to ask if I wanted to take a walk.  I thought, Is this day for us?  Yes.  The universe made that day especially for two confused and maybe a little scared once-almost-somethings, and I’m grateful for that gentle warmth in the midst of the coldness that came before and after.
7) Listen to the wisdom other people offer.  What they have to say just might be funny, profound, comforting, or all three - even the stuff that’s cliched or incorrect or silly.  Much-missed Philly friend:  “A lot of people have awkward situations like that; I know I have.”  Great pal’s wonderful husband (also a great friend):  “Fuck him!  Or, rather, don’t fuck him.”  His wife:  “Life is not a movie.”  Oldest and dearest ally:  “You never know what will happen in time.”  Co-worker who loves to play cupid:  “It could be a blessing in disguise ... Have you met my neighbor?”  And a bonus from long ago -- favorite teacher, in his letter when I graduated from high school:  “Whoever wins your heart will not deserve his luck.”
8) It's ok to play one prank. Maybe two. Those jerks deserved it.
9) There really is a song for everything. Thank God for music!  Every emotion, idea, or dream I had, however conflicting, odd, or obscure I thought it might be, I found reflected, sometimes perfectly, in a song.  I had never really gotten the lyrics to There Goes My Baby.  You broke her heart, yet you don’t know if she really loved you?  Logically, if you were able to break her heart, it would seem to follow that she must have really loved you.  So that poor sap’s confusion never made sense to me before.  Now I understand it perfectly. 
10) Smile at everyone, even those without teeth.  “Don't forget to smile,” our friendly mother eager for grandchildren coached before a night out. “What if they have no teeth?” my sister asked.  “You smile at everyone,” my mother encouraged with the enthusiasm of someone who knows.  “They might have friends who have teeth.” 

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