How do you mend a broken heart?  How does it get broken?  Is it in one event?  Or are there dozens of offenses before the crack?  Oh, I wish I knew.  For me, it happens over time, dozens of offenses forcing me to dodge and weave hoping to keep my balance.  Some days I can, and some I can’t. In my early twenties, I dated a man, really a boy, who I adored.  It was an incredibly, passionate relationship.  I discovered passion is a slippery thing, it goes both ways.  The intensity you love is equal to the intensity you hate.  My, my does can that lead to interesting times…We stayed together six years. Our break-up was a pitiful good-bye, lasting a year of push and pull.  The end did not result from a lack of love; it ended because of all the hurts.  The wounds left to fester and grow.  He was an alcoholic.  I suspect he still is. I grew up with a father who drank too much and a mother who yelled too much.  My old boyfriend was like home.  I loved and hated home as I loved and hated him.  I’m sure I even became the woman who yelled too often, much to my disgust. I remember after he left, laying in bed, weeping for hours – hurting so deeply from the inside.  I would take deep breaths in all the time because I felt like I couldn’t breathe — never enough air, never any relief.   Over and over, in my mind I would repeat this poem my mother once said to me, “I told my soul to be still and wait. Without love, For I know not what to love. Without hope, For I know not what to hope for. But in the waiting, there is faith.  There is love, hope and faith in the waiting.  I told my soul to be still and wait.”  If I said it enough times, finally a peace would descend.   Comforting me, even if it lasted only a little while. Today I know that comfort was God.  I was ceaselessly praying with my poem.  As I lay in my bed at night, I would imagine myself held in the palm of God’s hand.  I started going to church.  It was when I gave up, that my heart began to mend. I can’t say it happened over night.  It was a process and time was a huge part of it.  I can’t even say it won’t happen again.  But what I can say is, I have faith.  There is love, hope and faith in the waiting.  In that space, God waits for me.  I am held there and gently reminded “courage.”  I told my soul to be still and wait.

Tags: , advice, balance, break-ups, dating, god, healing, hurt, love, relationships

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 20th, 2007 at 4:24 pm and is filed under Communication & Relationships, Dating & Singles . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.