Ode to the Broken HeartMusic: “The Last Beat of my Heart" by Siouxsie and the Banshees
I got a new tattoo today: A broken heart upon my left breast.
It had to be done today. February the 5th.
A day worth commemorating. The day it all began.
February the 5th, 10am.
A nervous wait as the escalator crawls at a snail's pace, a doubt as to whether this was ever a good idea. Morning coffee with a beautiful someone you barely know - you wonder how the hell he ever convinced to go out for breakfast in the painful early hours. You panic a little as you begin to question whether the attraction to this stranger was just an alcohol-fueled haze.
Naive and innocent, barely out of high school and out into the real world, every day is an opportunity that could change the rest of your life. You hope for something special, but aren't quite sure what, never knowing that this yet-to-be-known somebody is the somebody that will completely take your heart.
And then it begins: the first date.
Love is a terrifying thing.
It's terrifying because the heart still loves even when it's broken.
Love is terrifying because it just is, without condition or merit earned.
A common misconception people make is they accuse their partners of holding onto the idea that they are perfect. An argument begins: "I'm not perfect, I'm human and I make mistakes. You can't expect me to be everything you want."
Of course you know the one you love isn't perfect - in fact, you know better than anyone that the person you love is far from it. You know their every flaw, every imperfection - and yet, they're still perfect to you for reasons unknown. In fact, that devotion is precisely why the person you love tends to hurt you the most. Because despite everything, despite a want to not want them, you can't help but love anyway.
With every today, you love more than you did yesterday.
And terrifying still, you know that tomorrow you will love even more than today.
The cycle doesn't break, even after the heart does.
Fast-forward a few years. To the present.
It's February the 5th again.
Things have changed. Lives have changed. A Utopia of memories are recalled. Stupid decisions have been made, regretted.
And this year, you are alone.
You try to convince yourself to stop feeling the way you do, to stop thinking the way you do, but you can't.
So I have a new tattoo. It's a broken heart upon my left breast.
It had to be done today. February the 5th.
Because as much as I try not to, I love you today more than I did yesterday, and tomorrow I will love you even more than today. And that cycle doesn't break, even after the heart does.
Naive and innocent, barely out of high school and out into the real world, every day is an opportunity that could change the rest of your life. You hope for something special, but aren't quite sure what, never knowing that this yet-to-be-known somebody is the somebody that will completely take your heart.
And then it begins: the first date.
Love is a terrifying thing.
It's terrifying because the heart still loves even when it's broken.
Love is terrifying because it just is, without condition or merit earned.
A common misconception people make is they accuse their partners of holding onto the idea that they are perfect. An argument begins: "I'm not perfect, I'm human and I make mistakes. You can't expect me to be everything you want."
Of course you know the one you love isn't perfect - in fact, you know better than anyone that the person you love is far from it. You know their every flaw, every imperfection - and yet, they're still perfect to you for reasons unknown. In fact, that devotion is precisely why the person you love tends to hurt you the most. Because despite everything, despite a want to not want them, you can't help but love anyway.
With every today, you love more than you did yesterday.
And terrifying still, you know that tomorrow you will love even more than today.
The cycle doesn't break, even after the heart does.
Fast-forward a few years. To the present.
It's February the 5th again.
Things have changed. Lives have changed. A Utopia of memories are recalled. Stupid decisions have been made, regretted.
And this year, you are alone.
You try to convince yourself to stop feeling the way you do, to stop thinking the way you do, but you can't.
So I have a new tattoo. It's a broken heart upon my left breast.
It had to be done today. February the 5th.
Because as much as I try not to, I love you today more than I did yesterday, and tomorrow I will love you even more than today. And that cycle doesn't break, even after the heart does.
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