The gift of being a writer is that we experience emotions that rattle us to our very core. These emotions enable us to see the world around us more vividly beautiful than it appears to the untrained eye. When we are in love we don’t just feel it, we taste it on our tongue, we breathe it in, we embody it. And when we feel pain we are broken wide open. It shatters our fragile shells. It discolours our portraits and it pulls the rug out from under our unsuspecting feet.
My friend, I have a story to tell you and you should probably find a seat because I think you need to be sitting down for this one.
Exactly a year ago I told this guy that I liked him and it backfired big time. It was then that I decided as I bravely forced a smile back onto my face, that I would choose to love loudly. I wouldn’t let this minor blip cause me to harden my heart or shut people out. I wouldn’t stay quiet about how I felt. I wouldn’t run and hide from these feelings that mortified me.
Well, a year later here I sit, struggling to contemplate how I can continue to stay true to that promise of loving loudly when it means getting my heart broken over and over and over again.
See I did a very foolish thing, I opened up my heart and let myself fall in love again.
It was completely unintentional, irresponsible and irrational.
And it was wonderful…
Until I finally plucked up the courage to share these feelings and discovered they weren’t mutual. And now it feels something like…
I’m watching my life carry on as if it were a movie except I am merely an observer rather than participator.
Like waves are crashing above me and I’m loosing my footing, getting swept under the roaring ocean.
Like I’ve been kicked in the gut. In a way that would make you gasp out in shock and pain.
Like the ground won’t stop shaking underneath me.
Like a thousand jelly worms have taken up residence in my belly.
Like I’m sitting at the dentists with one of those vacuums sucking up all the moisture from my mouth.
Like I can’t remember how to do normal things like tying my shoelaces which I used to take for granted.
And once again I am asking myself the question, do I stay silent or do I love loudly?
Do I give up on love, pretend I’m not interested and shelter myself from this pain? Because right now I can’t breathe. Right now I can’t see past the blurry hurt and sunken dreams.
It is worth it? If (when) this happens again what do I do?
Should I tell him that I love him? Or should I stay silent?
Here is what I think… and this is coming from the deepest part of my crumpled little heart…please don’t stop loving loudly.
Please don’t stop telling people the embarrassing depth of how you feel, wearing vulnerability like a pearl necklace and pouring your emotions into this cynical world.
There is no right time or place to say I love you. Don’t hesitate, don’t pause to take a breath…just do it. If there is one thing I know for certain, it is that I will never regret loving too much.
Please don’t shy away from gushy poetry, hopeful glances and joyful laughter.
The world might be shouting at you to wrap that tender heart up in barbwire and hide behind superiority and self-sufficiency. It’s telling you that you don’t need a man… that you don’t need love to survive.
That you are fine by yourself. That you are strong and capable and better off on your own.
Don’t buy into that lie. What a terribly sad thing it is to be afraid of love. Because it is in fact love that is the very opposite of fear.
Sure it is safer to guard your heart. It is easier to remain in your comfort zone. It would make me feel much better to swear off men altogether and never go through this again.
But much like a mother would go through the tremendous pain of childbirth all over again for the joy of holding her precious baby in her arms, I would go through this searing pain repeatedly if it meant I got to taste the sweetest of heavenly loves.
So once again I am picking myself up, dusting myself off and choosing to love loudly.
When my heart heals once more and the time is right, I will tell someone that I love them. I will not let these feelings go unannounced. Even if it means I fall apart again. It is worth it. Love is always worth it.
I don’t have any questions, but please know that if you are reading this with a heavy, broken heart, I am praying for you dear friend.Lessons on heartbreak...should I tell them I love them? Click To Tweet