Shattered Pieces

I don’t know what falling in love means anymore. I also don’t think it is meant for me. You ask why I say so. I’ll tell you my reasons. Every time I thought I was in love, it never lasted, otherwise I wouldn’t be saying this. Every time it ended, my heart was broken into a thousand pieces. I was left alone to pick them up. It’s a harrowing experience. In those moments my friends told me that the pain will go away. That someone better will come my way. They said things that they thought I wanted to hear, or maybe to them they were comforting. What they don’t understand in that moment is that I don’t want to hear about tomorrow because I don’t choose what awaits in the future. Someone else does it for me.

I cry every night because for me tears cleanse my soul. Tears awaken my spirit. They remind me that I am human. And so I pick myself up, one by one, I pick the scattered pieces of my shattered heart. Where do I begin? Just like a broken glass, no matter how carefully one glues the pieces back together, it never works the same.

This time I am going to be more cautious than the last time. I tell myself. Before I know it, my heart is out there, ready to open itself up to a stranger. For awhile, it rejoices and jumps with joy, caution is thrown to the wind and BOOM!!! There they are, two thousand pieces of my heart. The cycle begins again. Picking the pieces up, this time it takes longer than before. Scared. Broken. Disappointed. I press on.

I know there’s someone reading this whose love cycle resonates with mine. I don’t know about you, maybe you still have some little hope left in you that you are yet to find love. That is great for you. As for me, that small hope is gone. Only God’s miracle can change my perception on this matter.

Until that miracle happens, my door is shut, my walls are up and my social life will be on a stand still. Now I don’t need anyone’s sympathy nor anyone’s words of inspiration to tell me not to give up. To hold on. To be hope full. I have already done that and it has got me nowhere. Some will say I am bitter. Maybe that is true. Some will say I am desperate, maybe I am. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

One thing I am sure of, is that the giver of life has a reason as to why He still gives it to me even when I feel like I don’t want to live anymore. He alone knows why He has not given up on me even though I have already done so myself. So everyday I am alive, it’s because He still wants me to live. Until He decides otherwise, am living my life one day at time. I can’t fight any battle, I am weak. I am defenseless. But He whose breath I breathe, is able to do exceedingly abundantly more than I can imagine. To Him I give my life. I live not by my choice, but by the grace of the giver of life.