Heartbreak
I wanted to believe with all my heart. I wanted to believe it in the light as much as I believed it by the night, by the blur, by the electricity that was there.
For a long time, I was living by the credo “Don’t get your hopes up.”
But what kind of life does that let you have?
This weekend, I decided that I want to live in a world where I let my hopes soar high, where I pour trust and love into friends and strangers, where I dare quietly and greatly, where I am soft and vulnerable.
Because even if circumstances don’t turn out as I hope they will, even if I don’t get what I desire, there will still be something exquisite in that heartbreak — something that shines, something I may not have expected but will fall in love with even more.
{photo by Oscar E., used under Creative Commons license}
I’m getting a sad feeling from this. (Not all sad, but I have a feeling I know what you’re referring to) What happened?
To ” dare quietly and greatly” is a tough endeavor, but a worthy one. And sometimes things need to be broken before we can see them with new eyes and use the pieces in ways we couldn’t imagine when things were whole.
I find myself allowing the excitement and then when it crashes and burns like I think it might I get sad and swear never again. Maybe there’s a middle ground though, maybe we just need to differentiate between things that are worth getting our hopes up for and things that aren’t. I am okay with feeling sad about something that didn’t work out even though it was worth it, but if I’m sad about something that wasn’t even worth it I just feel more ugh. I know, that’s an elegant way to put it, but that’s all I got right now. :)
letting the other shoe drop can be so rewarding. it’s getting to that point of just wanting to experience life-the good and bad that keeps me from acting at times.