(I will eventually meander to my original point I had intended...about the broken hearts and being strong; not hard...yada yada yada.... promise!)
My husband did me a kindness that day. I found closure and that was what I really needed.
I didn’t have to accept all of the hell he put me through, but I could forgive him. I could remove all emotion attached to the situation because he was dangerous having that power. I started to become cold. I was almost afraid to show any compassion at all to him. I knew the moment I would open the door... even just a tiny crack... he would exploit my emotions and try to manipulate me.
He chased away what was in my heart and somehow felt he was entitled to whatever was left inside of it; picking up the shards like he was going to put it back together. Everything will be just as it was ... never mind that second rate glue he was trying to use.
All I had to do was forgive him and move on. Having the strength to gently take those shards from his hands and say, “Those are my responsibility. You go be the best person you can be and don’t worry about these shards. They are mine. Good luck.” ... That took some work but I made it.
Clarity... and moments like those... healed my heart. Eventually.
I never fully got over that former lover (my autocorrect keeps wanting to type “liver” and it’s making me chuckle—-read it that way!)
I’m wondering if I should even proceed to the next broken heart story ... I guess I should because the point I was making was that even though your heart breaks, you can harm yourself far more by hardening it. Let it be strong and flexible ... like a gymnast. Any muscle can give under a loving touch... Stone will shatter beyond repair, if the blow is hard enough. After my recent loss of my Dom, I felt my heart hardening.
