No. 100

Lessons from a Falling Star

shootingstar

Heartbreak is exquisite, and beautiful like a falling star.

It hurts, yes, but how wondrous that we can be so fragile and yet so strong.

And that’s where I’ve been: getting my heart broken and not quite able to talk about it. I’ve been swept up in my new business too, and undoing myself so that I could allow who I am to emerge. But let’s talk about the heartbreak, because I know we all love a good love story, right?

Chapter 1.

It began in the autumn, with a road trip. There was music filling the air and the trees of the Northeast had just begun to show their colors. Like any drive to someplace new, my friend and I were excited. The adventure had been planned for weeks. We spent the time in the car speculating what might happen. There was an eagerness in our eyes.

I expected it to be rather short and simple. Arrive. Get what we need. Go home. A clean getaway.

But there are times in our lives where we meet people and immediately know they’ll be special to us. Our body whispers it: a heartbeat seems to be missing, a breath falls short, something blurs on the edge of vision.

That’s the way it was when I first met him.

Instantly special.

I hated him for it.

Chapter 2.

Everything about the situation put my mind and heart at war. I felt the way I did, but he had a girlfriend. So I hardened myself, told myself to forget him. I found other ways to occupy my mind.

We saw each other twice. The first time was business, but we shared a meal afterward and a good conversation. A few months later, we found each other at the same event. And there seemed to be something there: a mutual understanding, a common interest, a spark I couldn’t explain.

I didn’t say anything. How could I confess that I felt something for him I had never felt for anyone before?

So that’s what star crossed feels like.

Chapter 3.

Our paths crossed again. There was moonlight and firelight and a bottle of truth serum. I suddenly didn’t have to hide what I wanted — and even more, it appeared he felt the same way.

So I let myself hope, I allowed my heart to expand and swell and take over. And for two days, I was blissfully drunk on the possibility of what might happen next.

But next, there was silence, followed only by the sound of my heart breaking.

Suddenly, I understood that sometimes the heart has to break to be stronger. Sometimes, we have to get exactly what we want to realize the world wants more for us. Sometimes, we have to be wildly grateful for fleeting moments, for cracks in space and time where you’re willing to be vulnerable even if it means getting hurt.

And whatever we do, we shouldn’t ever stop wishing on shooting stars.

{photograph by Fredrik Thommesen, used under Creative Commons License}

About brandi

Brandi is a digital strategist, website developer, and founder of Alchemy+Aim, a company that helps entrepreneurs and business owners elevate their online presence and enhance their digital experience. Her academic background in theatre, philosophy and physics was the perfect foundation for launching her business, where she’s worked with Brené Brown, Laverne Cox, Judy Smith, and other notable thought leaders since 2013. She is an advocate for using technology in ways that humanize, connect and serve people as well as for asking deeper philosophical questions and teaching others to think more broadly about impact when they create, particularly in STEAM fields.

10 thoughts on “Lessons from a Falling Star

  1. Hello Brandi, I check your blog everyday without fail for any updates! Glad to read one right now! I feel your heartbreak, I have been there too, have faith! Big hugs all the way from Singapore!

  2. I’m sorry it didn’t work out :( You always have a way of seeing the positive in every situation though. I know you’ll find someone you deserves you. :)

  3. Sometimes, it is what happens. Which is stupid (my initial reaction) and then just the past (the reaction way way down the line). I never thought I’d be closer to 30 and still experiencing these types of things.

  4. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on! I love the way you wrote this. Out of the saddest and hardest of things, you make something beautiful .

  5. So glad you can find the goodness in the midst of heartbreak.

    And then you write so well about it.

    Here’s to a hopeful heart–do keep on wishing!

  6. I hadn’t read this yet when we emailed each other. This post…you wrote about the whole story beautifully and like I told you, I think you are handling it so gracefully and optimistically. Good for you!
    xo-k

  7. Heartbreaks absolutely suck, Regardless of whether you tell finally muster up the courage to tell them or whether you keep that secret tucked away forever (been on both ends of that) you’ve already invested and allowed yourself to float away in that dream. This is just proof of how graceful you present both good and bad. Here’s hoping your heart patches up quickly and completely.

  8. I’m sorry it didn’t work out but I have a feeling it’s for the better. You have such a beautiful way of telling us about it, however. As a writer, I see each life experience as a good story to tell. The more invested we are, the more we feel, the more we experience, it makes for a better story. Then at the end of the day, it just means that we have lived a full life :)

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Credits

Jane Reaction

(logo and original branding) is a graphic design and art director who works with with small businesses and creative entrepreneurs, creating cohesive and interesting brands and websites.

Carrie Coleman

(photography) is a wedding photographer, whose goal is to capture the visual expression of a couple's love through timeless, organic images. She is based in Charlottesville, Virginia.