It’s funny I would write this.
Well, what’s funny really isn’t so much that I would write this; but that I would write this about this person,
The case of this broken heart of mine.
This isn’t so much a letter to he,
as it is a processing of thoughts,
for I’ve been thinking about it, about her- a lot.
My heart still hurts.
So, most of you who have been reading my posts for a while now would have come across her;
my former dearest-of-all friend, T.
Well, we’ve had a falling out.
And although things had been rough for quite a while,
and although many had called it an unhealthy relationship for an even longer time,
and although I often thought I should stop trying so hard to always be there and support,
to expect nothing but a fraction of what I was giving,
to embrace every crumble I was receiving,
to appreciate every faint sign or possibility of love, care or even just reciprocity,
I kept going anyway.
But sometimes, just sometimes, you get to a point where you simply have nothing more to give;
where you no longer hope to receive.
The point where you simply choose to move on.
And although looking back and looking behind, and hoping the other would realize and apologize,
you give in to the fact that you are walking alone.
The point where you realize that you have always cared much more;
maybe loved too much.
Invested too much.
Given too much.
The point where you realize that the reason you are hurting even after months,
is because you loved truly and deeply.
This is a love only the giver understands.
For s/he is the one who paid the price;
made the sacrifice.
But as it goes, I’m a woman of reflection.
and I have learnt two vital things:
What I have learnt as a daughter, is the love of The Father.
That, although I often tell myself I am trying,
I could really give more and do much better.
Stop taking His love and mercy for granted,
and simply share all I am and have with him.
What I learnt from this broken heart of mine too, is that I’d rather be victim than offender.
That I’d rather continue to give and to love,
without expecting anything in return;
and especially when what I get back is pain and hurt,
I’d still rather be hurting than hurt.
And so, as I pet this little broken heart of mine,
I tell it that this pain won’t be in vain.
That it will be fine and once again shine;
for love never fails.