What becomes of the broken-hearted?
So many people describe their 1st love as unique; millions stand by the idea that there is no love like it…nothing comes near to your 1st love right?
It took me years to get over my 1st love; so I get the roots of this thinking, I do.
But I don’t think it’s for the reasons we think…
Is it the love that’s unique?
Or just the experience?
When we have our heart broken for the very 1st time, it is NEW and immensely painful. And we just don’t know how to deal with it. We feel shock; immense grief; confusion; depression and helplessness. We are overwhelmed, empty, and without any skills from past experience to even compare it to. Many of us revert back to infantile ways, to cope with the pain, because we don’t know any other way…
Please take a meander with me, onto my friend who is a ‘Soldier’
When I think of him, serving on his 1st ever day; on his 1stever tour of duty; I can’t help but remember what happened to him
He had his heart broken too…
Can you imagine how he felt when he poked his head out of the tent; to find his best friend lying dead in front of him?
I can tell you, he also felt shock; immense grief; confusion; depression and helplessness? And yes, he too felt totally overwhelmed, empty and without any skills or past experience to even compare it to.
His training was the catalyst for his wholly adult re-action. My friend the soldier had already learnt to deal with war, but like the broken-hearted; there was still a period of time; when he was unable to move or act in a way that soothed him. He paused for seconds to deal with this horror; before moving forward. Seconds, not hours…maybe even minutes; but not weeks. Just because he had to and somehow, he knew how to…
But alas, there is no ‘Sgt Major of Love’; who comes to tell us what to do
We are at war, and we’re no more skilled than the civilians who flee the debris in a blind panic
But as life goes on and we have our heart trampled on over and over, somewhere inside we are building skills, just like my soldier on his 3rd of 4th exercise in the Moors; we start to become hardened to the pain and the panic. As gunshots to his protected chest become a strange kind of normality for him, the pain of a broken heart becomes an experience we have already overcome, just one of our many normal states.
We get better at it and we get faster at it
But does that mean we love less than the 1st time? I don’t think so. When I look at the people around me in relationships who are trying desperately to make it work, through the turmoil that is life; the love they have seems far deeper; compared to the lusty heady superficial, but very real memories, of my first love.
‘True Love’ is hard work; it takes a healthy dose of compassion, forgiveness, tolerance, understanding and patience, just to love someone else.
Do we really have these traits tied down; when we love for the very 1st time?
The old school broken hearts try far harder to keep the love alive; than the young and foolish, that close the door on love for reasons we might laugh at later, deeming them truly ridiculous.
What becomes of the broken-hearted…?
Their valves become clogged with memories of previous attacks
The interior hardens, and becomes a little lazy.
They become more difficult to travel around; it takes longer for blood to pass through, as we slow down any rushes; with our now wise, subconscious…
Then someone comes along and starts pushing new life through its veins
It skips a beat, fear through experience begins to pump adrenaline like billio. Desperately fighting off the invasion of another heart, another heart magnetically dragging itself towards its hub. It is tough; and it rejects and runs at quite an impressive rate…
Like our soldier.
Like our soldier…
It is traumatised and fed up; fed up of leaving the mind to its own devices; only to find itself back in the rear of the ambulance, re-arresting!
But love knows no bounds and it pushes on relentlessly
And in the end we cave to the power of it; and we let the magnet find its way into our life force
Into The Heart
And then, time again takes its toll and one day, we wake up and find that love has left, again!
By this time, we are of course soldiers too, so we bathe in the sadness for seconds at a time, instead of years. We climb out of the tent; we somehow step over our best friend who is lying dead before us; and we move on…
What becomes of the broken-hearted?
They become quick to heal, and slow to fall. But they continue to ignite and shine, just as brightly, from first love to last.
Cos no matter how ugly things get in the end. Love is beautiful and it is bright…
We get dark and we may get tough; but love is irritatingly shiny, and stronger than all the soldiers put together. It is (‘Thank Betty’) indestuctable; so no matter how many times you live and lose, you can never stop…