I once knew someone who could finish my sentence and I thought that was very special.
Boy meets Girl. Girl meets Boy.
It is the same drafted cliché every time. Some genius must have come up with the “classic love story” and we have all picked and pulled at it until it became fit to call our own.
Boy likes the smell of Girl’s hair. Girl likes the way she fits into Boy’s arms.
We fall in love. We find our minds always wandering back to that other person. We check the weather when forced to split apart, just to see how their day looks. We stock and store up happenings throughout our day that we want to tell that other person. We want to tell them what happened at the grocery store, that comment our boss made towards us at work, the times when we were reminded of them in the tiniest of ways.
Girl needs space. Boy wants to hold on. Boy is torn. Girl is
confused. Boy and Girl both let go. God hears the breaking of two hearts. Boy and Girl wonder: was it worth it?
I have yet to meet the person who has enjoyed a broken heart. I hope I never do. Falling in love, to me, is the scariest verb because before we can fully experience it we must offer ourselves up to vulnerability, leave our minds open to the possibility of going in with one person and coming out alone.
I don’t know how much I believe in the “one love lifetime.” Although Noah and Allie were down for each other, I think sometimes that we are too unique of a species to have only one love. Some people marry their one true love and this is of no disrespect to them, but a lot of times we watch our hearts break before we find the one who picks up the pieces and puts our heart back together in a completely new way.
But am I one who believes that the splitting of two people calls as a worthy occasion to take out life’s giant eraser and wipe that person off of the pages that they used to occupy so perfectly? Not a chance.
A broken heart leaves us bitter, not wanting to remember the good times, wanting to just forget that we ever allowed ourselves to do a trust fall into Love’s arms. But a broken heart exists so that when our heart is whole again, we simply know. We no longer feel resentment or pain, grief or loneliness. And then eventually we find a way to pull out the lessons that were carefully sewn into our knowing the other person and we eventually walk away in one piece.
Well yes, I once knew someone who could finish my sentences and for a while that was very special. We both broke each others’ hearts. But I learned in time how to finish my own sentences and add bigger, more beautiful words, along the way.
Great bllog you have