Tag Archive: Broken heart


A perspective about love and relationships.

I recently heard the Dierks Bentley song, “Different for Girls” Which is essentially a song about how it’s harder for girls to get over a broken heart. Which is all really just a matter of perspective, I know people who never really loved their S.O (Significant other) And when things don’t work out, they move on pretty effortlessly. At the same time, I’ve seen people break up because they didn’t feel that spark or attraction anymore, yet they still suffered, because they had grown attached to the other person, a lot of times they still even like the other person but things just didn’t work out.

As a guy, I’ve had female friends who I tried consoling tell me that I don’t know what it’s like to have a broken heart. They’ve explained girl’s feel things deeper and more profoundly than I ever could, because I’m a guy. But I can speak from experience, everyone feels heartbreak. Men are not immune to these effects; we can’t just turn it off, or rush into someone else’s bed and move on. In truth, we don’t know really know how to handle or deal with a broken heart. Partially because we’ve been told our whole lives that “boys don’t cry.” Or to Man up, whenever we’re feeling down, or depressed. So we don’t express ourselves by crying and eating ice cream, or having a girl’s night. Because a guy doesn’t want to bring down our friends, we really don’t want anyone feeling sorry for us, or looking at us like we’re weak. I’ve seen my guy friends drink themselves into oblivion and crying about the one who got away.

Heartbreak for me though always hits hard and it never gets any easier, it does in fact get harder. Because with every failed relationship, I learn more and more of myself, then I become more reluctant to get involved with anyone again. So when I do fall in love again, it’s never on purpose, it just sort of happens. Then I give that person more of myself than I had with my last relationship, because I’ve learned from past mistakes and I’ve been given the chance to mature more emotionally. But when those relationships fail, I can act childish, petty, sometimes I just break down and cry for days and weeks at a time, but most of the time…I just feel emptied out and hollowed. At my best, I can simply walk away avoiding any drama and the long drawn out breakup. You know when you find yourself both angry that they’re leaving, hurt by it, and depressed all at the same time, where a part of you wants them to hurt as much as you’re hurting, because if they’re hurting too, it must mean they love you too and maybe the two of you can work it out and get back together…But usually that never happens because of you said, it did something that’s unforgivable, or incredibly hurtful.
More recently, I suffered yet another heartbreak, now upon writing this as of now, I have no idea where our relationship stands, I don’t know if we’ll get back together, or not. But I can tell you it hurts. A hurt so profound I’ve been diagnosed with stress-induced cardiomyopathy, in lament terms, it translates to broken heart syndrome. Yeah I didn’t know it was a real thing either and as I sat there in the doctor’s office, I found out people can die from it. In broken heart syndrome, a part of your heart temporarily enlarges and doesn’t pump well, while the rest of your heart functions normally or with even more forceful contractions. Researchers are just starting to learn the causes, and how to diagnose and treat it.

The bad news: Broken heart syndrome can lead to severe, short-term heart muscle failure.

The good news: Broken heart syndrome is usually treatable. Most people who experience it make a full recovery within weeks, and they’re at low risk for it happening again (although in rare cases in can be fatal).

And I will tell you now, it sucks, from the shortness of breath, to the chest pains, and knowing the longer it affects me the more damage it can cause my heart. So the romantic part of me can’t help but think, it’ll be something else to someone who actually dies from a broken heart, not to sound morbid or depressing, but a part of me finds the prospect of dying from broken heart syndrome to be a bit romantic. The writer and creator in me can’t help but imagine what wondrous works of fiction someone might write about me upon hearing my story.


But I digress. Losing someone I care about…hurts, and I can’t help but sink into what feels like a bottomless pit of despair. I feel broken, incomplete and confused about everything that happened and what’s going on right now. Now I know for man being in a relationship with someone for over a year might not seem like much for them, but for me, it’s a lifetime. And it hurts, and all I want is to get her back, granted we’ll have to rebuild some trust to move forward and leave the past behind. I understand the situation, or I think I do. She was/is my best friend, my lover, the best part of me, who made me feel like the king of the world. I still sometimes find myself glancing down at my phone in hopes of seeing a message from her.

I won’t lie, I’m an emotional wreck, and I’m struggling just to hold it together, which I’m managing, just barely. I can barely sleep, I can barely eat, people at work keep complimenting my weight loss, and wanting to know my secret. So to say because I’m a guy, I’m incapable of getting hurt, that as a I guy, I’m impervious to heart break, I want to say bullshit. We’re all capable of feeling a vast array of emotion. I feel like a flower that spent years soaking up the sun and suddenly without warning the sunny skies turned to grey and someone took my sunshine away, depriving me light. I don’t even feel like I’m alive, or that I exist, I’m just going through the motions, pretending to be alive, fake smile, empty laugh, doing just about anything to just be left alone.

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I believe the whole stereotype about guys just hooking up, or going to bars and drinking away their pain comes from how some of us just want the hurting and the emptiness to stop, to go away. So they try to fill the void with whatever they can, booze, women, even drugs. In the past I’ve tried two out of three but it didn’t really help, just made me feel worse afterwards. All any of us can ever do, is try to forget for a little awhile, but no matter what we do, the memory of what we once had and held so dear always comes back to haunt us. We hate ourselves, we might not always admit it, but we do. We blame ourselves for screwing up, believing that if we just did more, or cared less that maybe, just maybe things would have worked out. We regret every hurtful thing we said in a moment of anger, or jealously. I know in the past, I’ve occasionally said or done things that I regretted, and wished I could take back. But you can’t take back a word after it’s been said. You can’t turn a lie into the honest truth.


I guess what I’m trying to say is…everyone falls in love, but sometimes by different degrees and at different times. You may be with someone now who makes you happy but a part of you is scared, or thinks about being with someone else. But I have spoken to several people who told me they had their doubts in a relationship, thought about calling it quits, but for whatever reason they chose not to and realized they did love the person they were with, but didn’t really appreciate or understand the scope of that love. Sometimes it’s when you risk losing something forever that you realize just how much it means to you. Which is why I think we say the phrase, “If you love something let it go, if it comes back it was always meant to be,” but I also believe in fighting for what you want and I believe the moment you stop fighting for love, it can become stale. Which is why I always try to find new and cool things to do together a couple and I why I never stop flirting even after I get the girl, because I learned to appreciate love and I learned how to make sacrifices, as well as compromises.
I don’t care what anyone’s sex is; we’re all still capable of feeling things like joy, sadness, love and heartbreak. My dad is one of the strongest people I know, I can count the times I’ve seen him cry on one hand, using just two fingers. The first time being when he and my mother got a divorced, it didn’t matter that they fought all the time, or that he would sometimes avoid going home just to avoid another fight. He still loved her, as flawed as she was and is, he still loved her, even though he really didn’t even know, or understand why. But that’s how love is, it’s unexplainable, it’s crazy, and it makes morons and fools of us all.

Closure

How-to-Forgive

“Sometimes the door closes on a relationship, not because we failed but because something bigger than us says this no longer fits our life. So, lock the door, shed a tear, turn around and look for the new door that’s opened. It’s a sign that you’re no longer that person you were, it’s time to change into who you are. It’s going to be okay.” ― Lee Goff

First my humble apologies for neglecting my blog for so long, I’ve been trying to finish my book “Losers” and have been juggling work, the gym, a social life, and for awhile a relationship with a truly spectacular girl, who in the end, became too afraid of her feelings, so she pushed me away. That hurt and what hurt more was the asshole I tried being the last time I saw her, because I wanted her angry at me and I wanted her to make me angry with her. Because, I had fallen head over heels in love with her and having that suddenly taken away from me, hurt me more than I dared to admit. Just made me empty and hollowed out, that feeling by the way sucks. It’s the stay in bed all day and try to sleep, or drink your life away just so that you could go a little while without feeling. I just didn’t want to feel that way anymore. But I eventually told her I was only acting like a jerk because I thought it’d be easier, and maybe give me a little closure. While in truth I’m fairly certain love just makes us crazy. So I blew it. But in my defense, I guess I was also a bit frustrated, because we went from being great, and perfect and suddenly, one day it was over. We went from her telling me that she missed me everyday, to nothing, it took less than a day to go from her telling me how she couldn’t wait to see me, how great she thought I was, and how she always wanted to look pretty for me, to “I don’t want to do this anymore” Maybe she got scared, maybe she was hurt badly in the past, or maybe, she just moved on, I don’t know, I don’t know because she never told me. And I don’t think talking about it was something she could do. I don’t blame her, we’ve all been there. I still miss her though and think of her every day, her smile reminded me of the sunrise and feeling her next to me was the closest to heaven I’ll ever be.

I was still limping along the road of broken heart recovery, when I on a whim checked that folder marked “other” on FB and when I did I saw a message from my mother. Four in fact, from January, the first simply said HI, a few days later she said “Hey Josh, we can text if you want” Which made me think maybe tbis was her reaching out,  wantingto make amends and maybe just talk to me without making any waves with her husband which I could understand. Divorce always sucks and is never very easy.

But then her third message a few days later irritated me a bit as it said, “I can’t believe you don’t want to talk to your own mother!” Yup, that one sounded more like her.

The fourth message she sent me, really bothered me, because she said, “Hey, I just wanted to say I love you and miss you!!!!”
Now, if it hadn’t been seven years since we last spoke, that might have been acceptable, it may have been okay. So I apologized for not seeing her message and explained that not all messages come through if you’re not friend’s with them on facebook and explained it was just chance that I happened to even see it at all. I told her if she wanted to talk, I’ll be okay with that, but not to expect it ever become more than a text message. I press send. Then I sat back and thought about it as I stared at that message, her telling me she loved and missed me.

So I wrote her again. I told her she wasn’t allowed to tell me she loved or missed me, because it had been too long, seven years, and not so much an apology. I told her that she put a price tag on me, and that price tag was 300 bucks, the money she had accused me of stealing. Which prompted her and my step father to steal my 1,200 dollar laptop, with threats of selling it, or outright smashing it if I tried getting it back and I told her how much that hurt. I told her, if she loved me, she would have messaged me, called, texted, or send me a letter when my grandmother passed away, knowing how close her and always were, but I got nothing. I told her how I didn’t hear from her when I went through my cancer scare, or when I found out that I just had a hernia and needed surgery, or when I needed to go back for surgery two short years later. I told her about my car accident and how I  still hadn’t heard so much a whisper from her.

forgiveness
I told her just how much she had hurt me, how she took away my younger brothers and broke the budding relationship I was developing with my older brother and how much they had all meant to me. I told her everything I wanted and needed to say, how all my life I never been arrested, or been trouble with school, or the law, yet she always made me feel like some sort of failure, a delinquent, a criminal, the blacksheep and the trouble maker. While my older brother, had been suspended, expelled, gotten into trouble with the law and how she always knew about it. I told her how I always struggled to just stay out of trouble, keep my nose clean and to live up to this impossible standard she set before me. How up until that Christmas 7 years ago, she was still accusing me of things I did when I was 7 and 8 years old, using everything I ever did wrong when I was just a child to judge me in the present. How with her, I was always guilty until proven innocent, which wasn’t very often. It’s hard to convince someone you’re telling the truth, or innocent, when they keep bringing up how you lied when you were eight, because you didn’t want to get a beating. I told her how most of the things I confessed to, I did so because I had no choice, how she wouldn’t stop beating me, or grounding me, until I confessed.

Then I told her, if she was serious about talking, just talking, I’ll be okay with that. But it’d be a long, difficult road for her to ever gain my trust, but not impossible. I told her I forgave her and had forgiven her a long time ago, but just because I can forgive, it doesn’t mean I can so easily forget.
Then I told her, the things in my life she’s missed out on, my promotion at work, my charity work, about my writings. I told her about my book, told her how I went back to school and graduated with 4.0 average, how I became a notary and how I’m liking it. I told her, I was doing okay.

I don’t know what I expected….but I had hoped she’d show some remorse, I had hoped for an apology and that she would take the time to read everything I wrote and let the words really sink in. I had hoped she’d respond with a simple “Hey, I got your message, I’m still reading them, but I wanted to thank you for letting me speak to you.” Or you know, something along those lines or just something other than what she actually said.

first-to-apologize-is-bravest-first-to-forgive-is-strongest-first-to-forget-is-happiest

I’ll I’ll spare you the details, but it turns out she lied. She wasn’t contacting me because she missed me, or just to tell me she loved me. She was contacting me because word had spread about this here blog, and she didn’t like what I revealed. She didn’t like the truth. It’s almost kind of funny, she loves her own image and pride more than she does connecting with me. But it’s okay though, I spoke my peace, told her how she hurt me, let me down, disappointed me, and I told her all was forgiven, but not forgotten. And I wished I would have said, how she runs from the truth, because of how much she fears what’d it’ll mean. But I feel good, I said my peace, I said what needed to be said and I told her all was forgiven, but I’ll never be her son again and I feel okay, I feel alright, in fact I kinda feel like a weight has finally been lifted, so life is pretty good. I didn’t get what I wanted, or what I had hoped for, but I did get some closure.

-Josh