“She was beautiful, but not like the girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.
Broken Hearts, Torn Up Letters and the Story of a Lonely Girl.
There are moments in our life that define us, but what can truly be telling of our character is how we handle those moments. I had one of those moments today. The lump in the back of my throat sits blocking unshed tears from rolling down my face. The pain in my heart not completely unbearable but enough to cause an ache in my soul and severe nausea.
You should know I have a problem. I’m trusting, too trusting. I believe there is good in everyone and that’s a fault of mine. I’m too easy to trust and to quick to forgive. I wear my heart on my sleeve in all the wrong ways. I found this beautiful quote the other day and it spoke to me.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
I’m going to choose to be selfish for a while. My heart will be locked away safely until it’s mended and healed. Allowing the only person in who won’t hurt me. Who won’t break me down and leave me to pick up the pieces. God knows what my heart needs, he’ll never let me down and he’ll always be there to pick me up when I feel like giving up.
I was lied to over and over again, I gave my heart freely to someone I trusted and in the end it was wrung out and crumpled. Leaving me to pick up the pieces. If I’m being honest I’m angry, angry with myself for feeling weak, for believing the lies, for not listening to my family and friends when they tried to warn me. I’m angry and the only person to blame is myself.
So here’s to me, mending my heart and for anyone feeling lost and alone. I’m right here with you, struggling alongside you cheering on your triumphs and encouraging you when you fall down. You can do this, we can do it and we’ll be stronger than before.