| The Broken Hearts Club (To survive love, you must become love.) |
The Broken Hearts Club is the first conspiracy you've ever heard of that says a broken heart can be a good thing, that hearts were made to be broken, that if you're really listening to the music of the world your heart breaks a hundred times a day. The Broken Hearts Club is now open for membership to all you lovers who've made yourselves brave enough and sensitive enough and passionate enough to risk the possibility that at any moment your hearts might be shattered, ripped apart, scattered in a million fragments.Break your heart again by telling us about it. How did it rend in the first place, what have you learned, or why are you willing to shatter it all over again? This is a terrible designation to lay upon a difficult emotion, but we've included the two "best" heart breaks that we've received. Read 'em and weep.
I've learned that I at last have a heart. I was so afraid that I didn't. I was aware that things were bouncing off me and leaving me untouched.
I met someone who found me crouched in a ramshackle hut in a dirty alley, and he said "Why are you out here, when you own the palace this leans against?" And he took me inside and showed me all the rooms and the tapestries on the high-ceilinged walls. And I realized I believed him and I told him, "The light in me salutes the light in you."
I'm still learning from the love he gave me when he held my hand and kissed me on the cheek. I told him that his children were like seeing fish flit thru a pond, that I saw glimpses of him in them.
And yet, and yet--it was not enough, and he has left me alone in my beautiful palace and I am stunned at how bereft I feel. I am completely laid open. I am amazed that he was able to leave. Human beings know when they are loved. I am crushed that I was not able to do for him what he did for me. I tell myself that the only thing I can do is to pay tribute to that love by continuing to find my true path in life and serve the universe.
Right now, that does not have the resonance that tracing the contours of his cheekbones with my fingers would.
I wanted him to tell me his life story in real time.
I long to be a place he wants to be.
I am bereft.
--Anonymous
Sam and I must have been partners in a former life. When he walked in the room, the laser-beam of power seared both of us. We got together twice and he freaked out and vanished. A few weeks ago he reappeared; he has been around all the time. I honored his fear and gave him love and space. Sunday last he caught me at the Caribou. It was quite clear his soul had given him some direction, as [during] my many times there, I had not seen him once. We fell right into that soul connection only possible through earlier lifetimes. As we were leaving, my heart exploded and I hugged him so that he freaked again. When we spoke yesterday he left, and I had my heart rent in two once again.
I called the Red Cross and asked them to declare me a disaster area, but they don't make house calls.
I know Sam has been one of the great teachers of my life. But I will never really understand how I could love someone so who simply doesn't want to be around me. Never before I met Sam had I known what real jealousy was. I had taught opera for years--I am a university professor--and had only appreciated those hell-driven murderous plots that, [whipped] by wild, fabulous music, compel us so. But when I saw Sam hugging another guy one day, I knew what jealously was, how one could murder, rape, pillage, burn, and flame on the Internet.
I guess Sam has done more to rip my protective armor than almost anyone.
After I recover, I will try to be grateful.
--Lee
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