Heartache
I have just realized something that may be quite obvious to all humanity, but to me it was never clear.
Whenever I saw in the movies women having their heart broken by their boyfriends, I didn’t quite realize what they were going through afterwards. The guy would always come over afterwards, beg for her forgiveness and she wouldn’t take it. Of course not, he was a scumbag, he cheated, he never called, he broke up with her on her birthday, he killed her dog, or something like that.
But what the hell? Why was she crying? Why was this so difficult for her? Why was she so torn? Facts don’t lie, he is a jerk.
Well, now I see. The act of screwing up, not meeting minimum expectations, or better yet, the act of being a jerk does not make the woman fall out of love with the guy. No, she still loves him, except now she’s aching because she knows that things will never go back to being the way they were. She knows that he didn’t call, didn’t show up, didn’t say “I love you” back. And this is never happening again, this was it and it’s gone. Love is still there, is still intact. But trust? Pride, memories? These are broken for good. And there is an intense agony going on, the kind that never goes away, when you brush your teeth, when you wake up, when you walk your dog. It’s there. And it hurts because you want to smack that son of a bitch in the head and say, “why did you have to fuck things over? Why?”.
And if that person can get over what really happened, all the bad spots and fuckups, and just leave the love part intact and get over that intense and severe agony and make things work again, nowadays, I am all for it. I think it’s noble and wonderful. We only also get one shot at life, you know?
Just my two philosophical cents of the day. And what a day that was.