I once had my heartbroken.. beyond all repair.. or so I thought.
So when I get all crushed or emotionally affected, I usually put pen to paper.. or these days, fingers to keyboard, and hammer out my feelings.
I am gonna post one of my journal entries here, it is many many years old.. but people who have read it are like.. *Yeah.. that's it EXACTLY*...
So maybe it can be of some help to you love..
The Crime of Heartbreak
There are no rooms with a view in heartbreak hotel. You check in, alone again-alone for good, it seems-and the world dissapears. Because your lover has forsaken you,you forsake the world. The places you loved, the places you dreamed of........wiped off the map....London...Paris- he has taken them with him. Books, movies, all of your old pleasures now leave you indifferent, since, indifferent he left you... heartbreak does not only subtract the joys that being loved added, it subtracts life's other joys as well. In the currency of heartbreak, your treasures are worthless: your friends, your work, your life.
All you can see in heartbreak hotel is yourself....instead of a view, there is a mirror. Once he could not take his eyes off you. Now you cannot take your eyes off yourself. Love made you beautiful, heartbreak deforms you. You stare at yourself in pity and horror- hideous, heartbroken thing.
Anyone who has been there knows that heartbreak is a state of utter impoverishment. The beloved, the world, the integrity of the self, faith and hope-all that we lived for...with....and by---gone! In theory, we accept loss as an inevitable fact of life. But loss is no longer merely a fact...a distant abstraction... when it affects us: it becomes a mystery. "why?" is the first question loss makes us ask. (never "why not?"). Somebody--something---must be to blame! Like every story of loss, the story of heartbreak begins with a crime.
Because he is the obvious culprit, we first accuse the beloved. At best he is weak, fatally flawed; at worst he is treacherous, fatally cruel. He is a Don Juan, a liar, a fraud. Whatever his alibis, whatever his motives, he has damaged us and is therefore a criminal.. That we feel damaged is proof of the crime. To describe those feelings, we employ crimes vocabulary. We say, for example, that our trust was violated, that our heart has been stolen. this will remain, eternally, the deserted lovers cry of rage. It is also, of course, a cry of despair.
In turning on the beloved .... we turn on ourselves. The flip side of the question "what is wrong with him?" is invariably "what is wrong with me?" (am i too fat? to thin? too smart? to dumb?-and on and on, in an endless absurd catechism of self loathing.) We understand, intellectually, that in betraying us, the beloved has proved himself unworthy of our love: but viscerally, we feel unworthy. And not only of his love,...but (so heartbreak reasons) of love itself: thus a single rejection is internalized as a life sentence of loneliness. The cruelty of heartbreak is that we experience it simultaneously as a crime and a punishment. In this shifting narrative, guilt and innocence refuse to stay put: we must endure the torments of both the wronged and the damned.
In this way..heartbreak hotel becomes both a hospital and a prison.... you lie there in traction...every emotional bone snapped in two. You will never love again without a limp. There are no comforts only poisonous medications: cigarettes...coffee...wine (which no longer intoxicates), chocolates you barely taste. For wanting love, needing love, you are locked up in this room with no view.
As in any hospital, any prison... you wonder.. willI ever get out of here alive?
The last thing you need at this time is a phone!!!!!
It rings... it's your father (at your mothers insistance)... begging you to go on Prozac...it's your mother: " If you thought of other people for a change" (in other words her), "You might be a little depressed hunny" it's your best friend Kelly, her new boyfriend calls her "lil darlin" his names Justin...and he's faboo - and he's on his way over. "gotta go," she says, and hangs up.
It's never him.....it will never be him again.
When you are heartbroken...everyone seems cruel...because they are happy? or because you are miserable? Even your cat is avoiding you. misery moves only after it has been sculpted and sanitized: raw & oozing, like yours: repels.
"Hide your wounded finger" warned the 17th century spanish philospher Baltasar Gracian. "Or you will bump it on everything. Never complain about it. Malice always zeroes in on what hurts or weakens us. Look discouraged and you will only encourage others to make fun of you."
Heartbreak feasts on harrowing scenes...sordid confessions: it will starve to death if you can summon the strength to keep it a secret. The last person who should ever witness your sufferring is he who caused it. Tears or reproaches would only bore- or delight him. If you want to haunt him, retreat into silence- when heartbreak is ugly and weak, silence has beauty and power. And yet you long to call him, to rail and to plead. You long to surrender yourself at this very moment when it Is most dangerous to do so. Rage that is despair, despair that is rage, the siamese twin demons of heartbreak that hiss in your ear and tempt you to folly! They will make you feel there is nothing left to lose, when there is still everything to lose: your mystery, your dignity, your decency. In rage, your worst self commits murder, in despair, your best self- your tender self- commits suicide.
Thank God! The one time you break down and call him at 2 in the morning he is out with another woman. this is the kindest thing he can do for you... not leaving a message is the kindest thing you can do for yourself.
Remember: every hateful word you never utter is a love letter time will mail back to you.
Because when those we give our love to fail to value it...sooner or later....we begin to realize that we have scorned and dismissed and dissapointed the wrong people....in the end the lovers we find ourselves regretting are not the ones who have left us...but the ones we have left. They are the ghosts who hover in our dark. It is not possible to forget anyone you've destroyed.
Someday your beloved will be hurt, he will be lonely and sad, and he will think of you with longing.
Heartbreak is a valuable impoverishment... a desolation that is potentially enriching. You learn alot more for better or worse... from getting your heart broken than from breaking hearts yourself.
When the heart breaks...everything else breaks too. The self as we know it crumbles to rubble; no longer inhabitable, it must be built back bit by bit. heartbreak forces us...in this sense....to create ourselves anew. We are no longer innocent, uninitiated....we know what it is to be wounded...and know how to wound. Our knowledge will either teach us compassion...or make us dangerous. We vow never to love again: and vengefully hurt others the way we ourselves have been hurt...or we vow to love wisely the next time, and more generously.
There are 2 roads to take when leaving Heartbreak Hotel: one leads to God...and one leads to the Devil....you may be kinder..or you may be crueler-but after heartbreak your never the same.
If someone I'd be seeing for a long time gave me that line about sharing, they'd be sorry afterwords.
