THE PUBLIC SHELF
Open when you get your heart broken
I'm sorry, sweetheart. I mean it all the way down.
I'm not going to tell you they weren't good enough, because you loved them, and you don't love people for no reason. I'm not going to tell you there are plenty of fish, because nobody has ever felt better hearing that. I'm going to tell you what actually happened to me, twice, so you know where you are on the map.
The first week is the worst. You'll wake up fine for about four seconds, and then you'll remember. You'll reach for your phone to tell them something funny. That reach is the hardest part, and it fades faster than you think.
The second month, you'll hear a song in a grocery store and have to stand very still in the cereal aisle. That's normal too.
And then one day you'll laugh so hard at something that you'll forget, for a whole evening, that you were ever this sad. You won't notice it happening. You'll just notice, later, that it did.
Your heart isn't broken because something is wrong with you. It's broken because you were brave enough to give it to someone. Please don't stop being that brave.
Order the big pizza tonight. I'm paying. Then call me and tell me everything, including the parts you think are embarrassing.
Aunt Carol
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