Archive for the ‘broken heart’ Tag

dead hearts are everywhere. dead hearts are everywhere.   2 comments

I’m pretty sure I speak for every single girl (and probably boy too) when I say that being single isn’t easy- especially during the holidays.  There just something about the falling snow and twinkling lights that elicits PDAs, even without the help of mistletoe.  It’s not that us singletons are bitter or jealous, but rather we feel taunted by the overload of kisses on every street corner and engagement announcements on Facebook.  Again, we’re not bitter…we’re just human.  It’s not easy to smile every time you find out another high school ‘friend’ is engaged or hear a valley girl bragging about what her boyfriend is getting her for Christmas on the bus.  To be honest, some days it’s just plain difficult.  Okay, most days, especially when you’re also struggling to smile through an already-broken heart.

I’m a little disappointed in myself these days.  When did I become a cynical girl who stopped believing in true love?  When did I begin gagging at the sign of lovey-dovey cuddle sessions at the bus stop?  When did I stop spending time with couples at bars asking them how they met?  When did I start being one of those sad girls who really doesn’t believe that she’ll ever find love?

The truth is I don’t know how to start believing again.  I’m not really sure that I’m capable of doing so granted the sad & cynical state I’ve found myself in lately.  Maybe it’s going to take time?  Maybe it’s going to take a miracle?  Or maybe it’s never going to happen? After struggling for 7 years to get over a first love who never officially knew my feelings (ck) and falling for a guy that I never had a chance of calling mine (“Cleveland”), I find myself grasping for something.  Anything that makes me believe again that love is possible for me. 

Okay, this is definitely coming off more rash than meant to be, but I guess my point is this: How are broken hearts supposed to be repaired?  How can dead hearts become alive again?  What is the secret?  Who holds the key?  There are so many broken hearts in our world today, some of them belonging to very good friends of mine.  How can I fix them?  How can I make them whole again?  How can I help them believe in love again?  How can I help them see that they deserve to be loved, and that one day they will be loved again?

Song of the Moment: Dead Hearts by Stars

living alone, here in this place. i think of you, and i’m not afraid.   3 comments

Closure.  This is ultimately the one thing that people seek following a break-up.  Others may want their favorite sweatshirt back, or perhaps a hot new fling, but most who have ever gotten their heart broken in the history of broken hearts will confirm that closure is the ideal parting gift.

Now I can’t quite say that “Cleveland” and I have just gone through a break-up because, quite frankly, we were never really in a relationship, per say.  However, I am able to admit that this may be the most amount of closure I’ve ever received from the ending of a “relationship”.  It still hasn’t been easy, especially the whole missing him part, but at least there are no unanswered questions or doubts.  I know all that I need to know in order to let go and move on.

Sometimes two people meet for a reason; a reason that may not fully be understood for a while- if ever.  Looking back on the past three months since the night “Cleveland” and I met, there is certainly evidence of serendipity.  To be blunt, I think my presence allowed him to finally address some things in his life- things that he may have continued to repressed if our meeting never took place. 

His entry into my life made a difference too.  For one, he showed me that someone is willing to take a chance on me.  And he not only told me that I was beautiful, but he made me feel it. 

These last few days I’ve thought about him more than I’d like to admit.  But I haven’t cried, nor will I.  Instead, I think of him and smile.  Yes, I miss him.  And he says he misses me.  But I also know that while we may have been meant to enter one another’s lives, the plan never indicated that we would stay.  When we said our goodbyes, I knew we meant them.  I knew we had to. 

Song of the Moment: Over You by Miranda Lambert

late at night i toss and turn and dream of what i need. i need a hero. i’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light.   13 comments

I’m just going to say it.  I’m going to tell to tell you how it is.  How it’s always been.  Like rapid spitfire, here are the facts of my life.  My love life- or lack thereof.  Like a game of 21 questions, I’ll give my answers- without any questions being asked.  Okay, here it goes:

I had my first “boyfriend” within weeks of beginning 6th grade; and my second a few weeks later.  (Yeah, I had a lot of “boyfriends” during my middle school years.)  My first kiss was in 7th grade after a school dance.  (I can still- vaguely- remember it.)  My first pseudo-real boyfriend was as a freshman in high school.  (He was a junior at another high school.)  I had my first dose of heartbreak during my senior year of high school, and may have broken my first heart then too.  (Different guys.)  A few years later, as a college sophomore, I experienced a few firsts: First one-night stand (there were a few of those); first other stuff (no sex though); and first real bout of love…followed  by my first broken heart. 

While still mending my broken heart, I indulged in my first friends-with-benefits relationship in the summer following college graduation, which led to my ‘first’ a day after my twenty-third birthday.  I’ve been with four others since then.  (Note: I was neither in a relationship nor in love with any of them.)  And if you must know, the verdict is still out as to whether or not I’ve been in love a second time.  I like to think of it more along the lines of a high school more-than-a-crush.

So that’s my story.  It’s far from a poetic but better than that, it’s the truth.  But while this timeline shares many details, it leaves out so much.  It doesn’t include all of those boys that (may have) liked me but never once told me so.  It doesn’t share how many boys I kissed or made-out with that never called the next day.  And more importantly, it fails to mention all those nights when I curled up in bed wishing that tomorrow would be different; that tomorrow someone who walk into my life and make everything better- or at least have someone to stand by my side.

I’ve been having a fairly emotional week.  I’ve blamed it on being tired and stressed from large amount of school work I’ve had.  However, the truth is, my heart got a bit broken again this week; and as a result, I found myself feeling needy for a guy’s attention.  But the real thing I learned from this week is how much I still struggle with my own issues when it comes to boys and the potential of relationships & love.  While aknowledging that I’ve come a long way, my flaws really shined through this week- at least in my eyes.

I need a hero.  I need someone to rescue me from my own doubts and reservations; someone who can make me believe again.  Someone who can break down my walls and call me out on my issues.  I need someone who sees that I’ve had a rocky time with this stuff in the past and therefore, knows exactly what he can do and say to help me understand that he’s there for me.  I need that hero from my dreams to be more than a figment in my mind.  Instead I want to roll over in the morning and see him next to me.  Wishful thinking?  Yeah, probably.

The truth is I thought I found that hero- once upon a time.  I saw so much in him and really thought he could be the one I’ve always dreamed to find.  I thought he had potential to be a first for me; but instead, it turns out to be another statistic.  It’s okay.  Just disappointing, especially when I really had high hopes for that one.

I should probably end this post differently, but think this is how it’s going to be.  However, I will say that I haven’t fully given up on finding that hero eventually.  Simply I’m just struggling right now to make sense on how something can feel so right, yet be so wrong.  If you want more, listen to the song posted below and it can given an idea of the mood I’m finding myself in.

*The title of this post are lyrics from the beautiful song, Holding Out for a Hero by Ella Mae Bowen.


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if i talk really slowly, if i try real hard to make my point dear, that you have my heart. here i go. i’d tell you but you already know.   2 comments

In order to write this post to the best of my ability, I must admit that I’ve been watching The Bachelorette this season.  Now in mentioning this, it is necessary to remind you that I’ve stuck with my boycott and haven’t watched a single episode of The Bachelor since the Jake-Choosing-Vienna moment shook my guilty pleasure TV-watching world. (Bachelor Boycott Begins post)

Anyways… for those of you who haven’t had the privilege to watch this season of The Bachelorette with me, I’ll tell you that I’m the President of Team JP.  Every viewing party can be summarized by me saying, “This show is ridiculous!” and expressing my love for JP: Ashley is crazy if she lets this guy get away.  He’s the kind of you always hope to find.  Therefore if she doesn’t choose him, then it’s certainly her loss. (Maybe my gain? Wishful thinking…)

Okay, I’m not really love with him; however, this past episode certainly caused my admiration for him to skyrocket.  In reference to his previously broken heart, he spoke the most honest words that can only be learned through such a soul-wrenching experience (aka love).

He said, “Unless I completely put myself out there and expose my vulnerability and allow myself to get hurt, there’s no way that we could ever work.  I’ve accepted the fact of all of this, if I get completely crushed and heartbroken at least I can walk away saying I gave that everything I had and I was open to everything and it just didn’t work out.”

He’s right, and anyone who has allowed themselves to learn lessons from their heartbreak will agree too.  For one, I agree.  Now I could come up with a line of my own, but I’m going to borrow Martha Beck’s infamous line instead:  “Every instance of heartbreak can teach us powerful lessons about creating the kind of love we really want.”  While it takes time and some good cries to figure this out, the ultimate lesson that one learns thru a broken heart is “Take a deep breath, put on a smile and a bundle of confidence, and try again.”

JP’s outlook is one that we should all adopt.  Whether you’re going on The Bachelorette (hopefully not), a singleton looking for love (lust) or a rookie in the relationship game, it’s best to have the attitude that you’ll give it all you got and trust that whatever happens, happens.  Be Honest with Yourself.  Be Open with Others.  Live with No Regrets.  And most importantly, Don’t Be Afraid to Fall in Love or Have Someone Fall in Love with You.

Yesterday one of my best friends posed an interesting question my way.  She asked, “Do you think you were in love with Casey?”  I answered honestly and said I believe so because of how much I cared about him- and still do.  But that being said, I know that the regrets I’ve had over him are the result of me not putting myself out there.  This is also why it took me for-ev-er to get over him.  But like I’ve said above, heartbreak tends to be the best way to learn lessons.  Afterall, mistakes are the best teacher.

So like my dear JP, I’ve learned a lot from my broken heart.  Most importantly, I’ve learned a lot about myself.  And while my confidence level still tends to depend on the day, I can say that I’ve been more comfortable (than I ever could have imagined) taking chances and putting myself on the line.  I’ve been exposing my vulnerabilities and allowing myself to dabble in situations to which I could get hurt.  If we’re being honest here, I’ll tell you that I’ve been a little scared lately- after learning how vulnerable I’ve let myself become; however, I have no regrets.  If anything, I’m so grateful that I’ve grown enough to let myself do so.  Because like that cute guy on The Bachelorette said, “…at least I can walk away saying I gave that everything I had and I was open to everything and it just didn’t work out.”

The title of this song is lyrics from For You by Angus & Julia Stone.

look for the girl with the broken smile, ask her if she wants to stay awhile.   2 comments

About a month ago, at a bar/coffee shop five blocks away from my old apartment in downtown Columbus, eight twentysomethings sat at table engaged in laughs and conversation.  If you need a visual, picture Central Perk minus the couch and many more beer glasses than coffee mugs.  Oh, I should also point out that most of these people met one another for the first time 30 minutes prior to my late arrival.  It’s a night, even 3 weeks later, that I continually find myself coming back to.  While it may seem odd to others, one of the memories I recall most frequently is over the lyrics of a song.  I know, me and my lyrics & quotes. 

A comedic, liquor-drinking guitar player soon took over mic and began crooning many ladies’ choices.  As our table began making predictions for the next song, he sang the line:

Look for the girl with the broken smile/ Ask her if she wants to stay awhile (She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5)

As he continued singing the remainder of the song, silence hit me.  (Maybe discomfort too.)  To distract myself from the thoughts that were forming, I looked around the room at the strangers nearby, until the song came to an end. 

“What does ‘a broken smile’ mean?” Jen asked.

With no one else responding and her gaze on me, I thought quickly about what to say.  So many things I could have said.  So many examples I could have given.  With more discomfort setting in, I opted not to say too much but did incorporate the words ‘sadness’ and ‘broken heart’ into my answer.

I thought, Does she really not know?  How could she not know?  Has she never truly battled pain, suffering and/or a broken heart?  Has she never had to force a smile when her heart was breaking inside?  Has she never forgotten how to breathe without feeling pain?  Has she never wished that she could sleep a whole day away so she didn’t have to worry about hearing his name?  If not, then I pity her.

At twenty-seven years old, I can finally say that I’m grateful for my broken days; for they have given me strength and resilience.  The honest truth is that obstacles are life’s best lessons. Each and every experience- momentous or habitual- exists to prepare us for what has yet to come.  The same can be said about relationships as sometimes you have to learn from heartbreak in order to appreciate true love when it comes along.

I couldn’t have said the same thing at 22 years old; quite frankly I’m not sure if I saw it this way last year.  But all that matters is I believe it now.  And I believe that there’s nothing wrong with being broken… as long as you put the pieces back together again. 


“This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something. ”
Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love)

in memoriam: sarah’s joe   1 comment

Four years: The time one spends wandering those cliquey halls of high school.

Four years: The (expected) number of years one roams around a college campus, mostly drunk or hungover. 

So many good memories can occur in four years, but four years to my friend, Sarah, is the amount of time that she’s spent mourning the loss of her boyfriend, Joe.  Four years ago today, Joe passed away unexpectedly.  While I unfortunately never had the opportunity to meet him, I remember him today through Sarah’s memories and the love they shared.

To understand the impact that Joe’s death had on Sarah, it’s best for me to paint a clearer picture of my dear friend.  Sarah Donley: Fun. Crazy. Life of the Party. Flirty. Boy Crazy. Make-out Bandit. Get the picture?  Sarah’s looks and energy not only attract every guy in the room, but they also get her into trouble.  If I had a dime for every guy I’ve had a “Sarah” talk with…

But everything changed when Sarah met Joe.  Joe, bless his soul, made the greatest impact that one can make on another: Love.  Without ever seeing them together, I know that he loved her dearly because I saw just how much she loved him.  A love that can only be experienced when the one you love loves you in return.

The only thing worse than Joe’s passing was that Sarah was there.  As a nurse, let alone a loved one, she suffered the trauma of not being able revive him.  Having to deal with that on top of losing the man she loves…no words.  My heart breaks just thinking about her broken heart.  I hated knowing that I couldn’t do anything to help her, except be there for her.  Kristin, Ruth, Carrie- we could only just be there for Sarah.  And love her.

While Sarah’s come along way these past four years, I know that her heart is still broken.  Especially today, as I’m sure Joe is the only thing on her mind.  And for that very reason, my own heart is breaking today.  

But like everything else I experience these days, I’m going to try to turn this blue day into a lesson to be learned.  Instead of sitting here burdened by worry and sadness, I’m going to use today- the 4th anniversary of Joe’s death- to think about life. 

What is it about death that makes us think about life?   

When my Pap passed away last summer, I only cried twice: 1) The day after, before flying back to Pittsburgh, at CVS when Beyonce’s Halo blasted through the aisles; and 2) At his funeral when I saw my Grandma, as the loyal wife of a veteran, gracefully accept condolences in the procession line.

But besides those uncontrollable tears, I didn’t mourn for him.  I knew Pap was in a better place far, far away from the pain and suffering that he faced for 10 years.  Thinking about him, about the things he missed out on during the decade after his first stroke, I let him inspire me to live.   

And that’s what Joe is doing for me today. Thinking about him, Sarah, and the love they shared is inspiring me to live.  And live a lot.  We say it all the time: Life is short.  But sometimes saying it, acknowledging that fact of life, is all people do.  Why?  What are you waiting for?  Do what you want to do.  Say what you want to say.  Dream the dreams you want to dream.  Love who you want to love.  Be exactly who you want to be.

Do the things you’d regret not doing.  That’s been my motto this past year, and actually it is the reason I first moved to Chicago two years ago.  I knew I’d always wonder what if  if I didn’t go.  So I packed up  my bags and turned my back on a life of regrets by choosing to live. 

So, in honor of Joe, my Pap, and all of the loved ones that we have lost, let us remember them and celebrate their lives by choosing to live.

i might look the same, but i’m a little different now   Leave a comment

This weekend while catching up on some of my DVR shows, I discovered Gemma Hayes.  Now if I haven’t said it before I’ll say it now, I am a quotes & lyrics girl.  You’ll see this throughout my posts if you haven’t noticed it already.  I believe it’s the writer in me.  As Adriana said before about herself, I too love words. I’ll be immediately captivated by certain lines from a TV show, movie or song lyric, a quote in a novel and/or note from a friend’s email.  It seems so simple, but purely magical to me.

I’ll admit that sometimes I interpret the meaning of quotes & lyrics differently based on my current situation or at least where my mind is at the time.  Listening to Gemma Hayes’ songs, these two lines stood out to me, and I’ll explain why:

  • We will find a way; To make it through these days (November)
  • I might look the same, but I’m a little different now (Oliver)


The lyrics to November noted above seem suitable, given my situation as a twenty-six year old trying to find her way in the world; searching for something; and trying to let go of the past.  Adriana and I are always supporting and encouraging one another that we are stronger than we think we are, and to keep our faith.  Sometimes the hardest thing for me to is to remember to breathe and keep a postive outlook. 

As for the second set of lyrics….where do I begin?  The song is about how Oliver broke the singer’s heart.  Broken heart.  Check. (minus the ‘Oliver’ name).  Pain.  Check.  Emotional suffering.  Check.  Scars. Check.  Shall I continue?

Another great line is, “You ripped the smile off my face.”  Now while she goes on to call him a ‘wicked boy’, that’s where the similarities differ.  My ‘Oliver’ was anything but wicked, nor can I call him such for the sake of making myself feel better. 

I think the smile was ripped off my face a long time ago.  In fact, I’m surprised when I find myself laughing.  Usually it’s a result of watching Ellen and the crazy things that happen on her show.

As for, I might look the same, but I’m a little different now…. This is me.  My scars may be covered, but they are there.  No one else notices it, but these scars have certainly affected me.  In fact I have a very difficult time remembering who I was before the scars.  Simply put, I’m just a little different now.


Posted February 22, 2010 by K in chicago, heartbreak

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