We have all felt it . . . the pain that seems unbearable, the ache that cannot be assuaged, the collapse that feels cataclysmic. If you are like me, a great deal of time is spent cursing the events, people and things that bring it about . . . heartbreak. But I have come to find gratitude for the thing I have despised most in life. I have grown to relish the comments, slights, misunderstandings, and rejection that bring about insufferable pain. Why? Because without the overpowering grief; without the unendurable sadness, I would not know the height of joy that comes from the love that cultivated the soil such immense pain could thrive in.
And so, the next time my heart is broken, I will curse and wail and cry and feel as if death were a kinder path. And then, I will stand in gratitude for whatever or whomever has brought it about, because in the tattered remains of my heart, I will know that I am better off for having loved deeply and lost greatly than to have guarded myself against such turmoil by holding back.
I cannot measure the torment my heart has felt, and I cannot measure the value of having endured it. I can only know that I am better for having loved . . . deeply . . . honestly . . . vulnerably.
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