I used to love him but I let him go. Still we are friends, and although the years pass, the friendship, when we do pick it up is as if time never passed. We laugh, oh how we laugh, and he knows exactly how to exasperate me in a way that's both endearing and utterly frustrating and he loves that and it only encourages him more.
The warmth and camaraderie between us was palpable when we were together and it sings through the phone and the computer as well. And how could I not love someone who never fails to find some way to point out my spirit and beauty in every conversation? It would not be an exaggeration to say he's a longtime loyal member of my fan club. In fact, he still gets to keep a little piece of me, even after all this time.
He'd been wondering what was going on and I didn't know it but he'd been looking out for me. He held back and respected my silence until finally he reached out and asked me and all the questions tumbled out and I told him all that had happened during the silences. I didn't realize I had my own silences, but I had, and his memories of things I thought only I could recall, bore witness to that.
When I love someone, they get a piece of my heart. If they love me in return, they give it back and a piece of theirs too and back and forth it goes, give and take, sometimes one of us gives more and sometimes one of us takes more but it balances out, if we are lucky, and if we are careful and aware that we hold that little piece. Sometimes they take and walk away with that little piece and we feel lost and torn.
Sometimes we walk away because we feel that little piece has been found unworthy and sometimes we don't know what happened only that little piece is missing and what remains is a very painful emptiness where it once was. Our other loved ones, the ones who look out for us, try to fill in that emptiness when they see us suffering and if we're capable, we accept it and move forward.
I moved forward many times but I knew there was a lot of me that I gave. Although I didn't ask for it it return, the heart needs love. It needs nurturing. It needs to know that it's wanted and significant. Or it becomes numb, or cold, or bitter. It becomes forgetful and I forgot a lot. For a long time, I forgot who I was in the process.
I trusted my love to people who didn't value it and I mistakenly thought that meant that I wasn't worth it but I am. I've always been. They may have lost a lot of little pieces along the way themselves and didn't know how to accept when a new piece was offered to them, freely and without condition. They may have forgotten, themselves. They may be afraid of losing too many pieces and be left with nothing, not even for themselves.
As my life evolves and changes, and with reminders of who I am, how strong I am, and that I have great value, those little pieces I thought I'd lost or forgotten are returning to me. And they not only fill the emptiness I thought I'd have to live with, but overflow and allow me, even compel me, to share more pieces of me.
I have learned that a broken heart can be mended and become stronger than ever and help heal other broken hearts and sometimes, even hearts that don't even know they're broken, or want to be healed.
Time has shown me that I'm not forgotten. I'm not abandoned. I'm not worthless. My true beauty, my heart, and yours too, is composed of a lot of little pieces. If you don't believe it, keep reaching out, keep embracing, try to trust those who are more worthy and appreciative, even if your heart's been broken, don't regret that little piece you gave because one day it will return to you and multiply and your heart will overflow.