Getting Over a Broken Heart

Dear Tough Love Tin,

Everything about the man still resounds in my beaten heart and nagging head. The love affair that ended with a few words but started with none. If forgetting is impossible, I just wish that my senses would leave my beat up mind and heavy heart in peace.

The sound of his voice, and of the beautiful laughter we had when we were together keeps playing at the back of my head. The smell of his perfume and the taste of his mouth randomly haunts me even at the deepest of my sleep. The shadows of his face and how his eyes glowed with every change of emotion, and how soft his touch felt is making me want him more rather than move on. But I never knew him, the totality of him. I just know that I loved every second of the time he was looking my way, even if I never knew what I really mean to him. Our love affair ended even before they began our sweet surrenders.

What should I do? Everything about him won’t escape me! HELP!”

- HOPELESS CASE

Dear Hopeless Case,

Like death and birth, every second in every part of the world, somebody out there is getting their heart broken. By now, people being creatures of habit must know already how to dodge the senses and just move on. But why does a broken heart get the best of us? Why do we never learn? Because emotions are not like anything else in this world. It is not tangible, therefore, we don’t know what we are faced with.

Hopeless Case, you are not so hopeless. Now, this all depends on how strong you are as a person and how you cope with things. The intensity of the relationship and the length of it also has a lot to do with the time and effort you‘ll be needing to cure your disease. Don't worry, you’ll get over it. Suck it up!

The best advice I can give you is do what I do, it works for a stubborn love fool such as myself.

Step 1: TORTURE

Do what you do now, only more. SULK. Relish the pain, torture yourself with the thoughts of him until you get so tired that you just cry yourself to sleep. Turn the lights down low and play the saddest songs on your play list, crank it up! After setting the mood, look at pictures of him and you, of him every single moment. Whine, cry and vent to your friends and obsess about every single detail of your relationship until they are sick and tired of you. Stalk him on Facebook, if you want. Ask about him, but don’t make it sound that you’re angry or indifferent. There’s nothing more pathetic than a woman pretending to be strong but the whole world can see that she’s just a hopeless mess.

If your common friends ask you on how you are doing, politely say that you are having a hard time, but you know life has to go on. An honest enough answer that would not trigger suspicion of your undergoing self- destruction, but realistic enough that you can fool people into thinking that you are moving on.

Don’t let him know or give any hint that you are suffering. Do not post any sappy status message or write on your blog what you’re going through because of his loss. And by any means, DO NOT drunk dial or communicate with him at all! You never, ever wanna lose face to your ex. Try not to lose focus on your job, or school (although this is going to happen anyway). If another part of your life suffers, it would be harder for you to move on. People close to you are probably so sick and pissed off of your neurosis after all this time of whining, but they’ll get over it. As of this point, you shouldn’t care too much about them. Self pity is the key, you are all alone in this battle. Do Step 1 for a month or two, maximum 3.

Step 2: LIMITS

You should be tired at this point already. Physically, you should’ve gained or lost a lot of weight and you look like trash. After all that thinking, you should’ve also thought about the bad things about him and the relationship, too. The guy couldn’t be all that great! Think about these things now. Think about his most annoying qualities and how you lived with it. Think about how he flirted around with other girls and the times that he lied to you. Think of all the negative!

This is the time that you should talk to your friends. Ask them what they really think about him. Most probably, they’ve told you time and again how they hated his guts or how they didn’t like bits and pieces of him. Refresh your memory and listen to them. It would sound different this time because now, you want to get over him already. I learned in life that half of the time, your close friends and family are right about their view of your partner.

Change your focus to these things but have the same intensity of sulking as much as you did when you were craving for him. But don’t lose sight of the truth. Don’t exaggerate or fabricate negative things about him in your head. It’s a common mistake of the scorned, but you can never lie to yourself. Ever.

Now stop asking about him. Do everything ONLY 3 times a day: Look at his profile only 3 times a day instead of setting it as a homepage to your browser. Look at photos only 3 times a day, and only allow yourself to feel pathetic 3 times a day. Most importantly, think about your memories with him only 3 times a day. The latter is more difficult, but you’ll learn to control your mind when you are doing this. Just believe that you can! Duration of this is 2 weeks to a month, max. Step 2 is more of a transition than an actual step.

Step 3: LIGHTEN UP

Think about the time you wasted obsessing about him. Think about the parties you’ve missed out and the dates that you’ve canceled because you were still attached to the idea of him and him coming back. Stop checking your phone every five seconds because he might’ve texted. Stop deleting his name on the phonebook because you know his number by heart anyway. Tell yourself not to care if he does anything to be noticed, like message you or call you all of a sudden. He does not exist.

Try to avoid places that you think you’ll see him. Block him on your messenger list. Step 3 is when you start taking care of yourself. Always be at your best. Look good. Meet other people, but don’t jump into another relationship. Look at being single as a privilege. Flirt and feel beautiful. At this point, you might feel a little bit of resentment towards the guy… allow yourself to feel angry. But don’t let your anger towards him get the best of you like it did the time you were hopelessly in love. You’ll miss him and his memory would still haunt you. Try to distract yourself if this does happen.

Lightening up is sparing yourself from the mind games and puzzles that you put yourself into. Stop torturing yourself with the what- if’s. There is no what- if’s in your equation anymore. Lightening up is healing the scars, and accepting certain realities. This is the longest process. Take your time with this one because Step 4 is not for the faint of heart.

Step 4: REALITY BITES

Slowly, you’ll realize that he is not your world anymore. The mere mention of his name will still pinch a nerve in your heart, but at least you’re not crumbling into pieces anymore. Now, you have to accept the fact that he has moved on. Guys cope better with a broken heart compared to girls because of their logical brainwave, or at least handle it better. You have to really believe in the fact that it didn’t work out and you have to move on. You have no choice.

Now, you can go to the places that he frequents at. Don’t be scared if you bump in to him. If you’re alone and he is with someone else, the more that you have to approach him and say hi. He was a part of your life but he is not your life anymore. Think about him fondly, but never forget the pain that he put you through.

I never believe that ex’s can be friends, but some people say it works. Give it a couple of years. You might feel guilty or compelled to still be part of his life for “force of habit” reasons, but this is not a good idea. Ending a relationship, especially on a bitter note, has no room for pleasantries even if you started off as friends. Why? Because if you still have the need to be a part of his life or him as a part of yours, there is still a part of you that’s holding on to him, but not the idea of you and him. And remember why you liked him at the first place? Because he is the person that he is. Ergo, the perfect time to be friends with an ex is only when you don’t really have the need for him to be a part of your life. Your source of happiness is gonna come only from you, and you alone.

Hopeless Case, People forget that they are individuals. They link their happiness and their whole being to the world. What if your world crumbles? Nobody dies of emotional pain, let’s just put it that way. Empower yourself! What’s hard about life is everything is linked. Just when you thought that things are not gonna get any worse, it does. You might have neglected other parts of your life or they also screwed up in the process of your heart mending. Fix yourself. And if you do decide to start again with another relationship, well, just make sure that the next guy does not pay for the sins of the others that broke your heart. Give it all your best, but leave your senses intact.

Good luck Hopeless Case, and may the force of Tough Love be with you!

Tin

Colors, Numbers and Cuts.

Discontent is written all over your face. When I honestly thought I got you all figured out after one thousand eight hundred and forty three days, I  surprised myself when I had a good look at you.

Once,  you were this cloud of radiating colors that never seized to light up the room even through the darkest and hardest of times. Your colors were overwhelmingly beautiful, so much so that I cannot stare at you for long because my eyes are only used to the blacks and greys.

One thousand eight hundred and forty three. These are the number of days that emotions filled up the room. Being with people like you and me is never easy. The one thing that made us count the days pass a thousand, is the culprit of our demise.

Passion. The passion for you and for me. The passion we have for the world and all its rights and wrongs, its brilliance and ignorance. The passion for anything that can make our hearts feel stabbed and comforted at the same time. The passion to search.

For one thousand eight hundred and forty three days, you were caught with my web of emotions and youthful ignorance. These thousands of days were mostly spent on me, and you and me. But never you. While I tried to make sense of my passion, you were just there, holding  my hand as I rise and fall every time I try to cross the bridge of what is called adulthood by society.

My reckless nature cut you so many times. So much that I had lost count  whenever I see you bleeding. You always say that your wounds are insignificant next to me. You would never lose your colors. You would never care to heal the pain my passion has brought to your life. You were just holding my hand. Patiently. Patiently waiting for me to share the colors of your world.

Yesterday marks the one thousand eight hundred and forty two days of you and me. By this time, I had already crushed your heart so many times that all that’s left of us is silence. You were sitting at the corner, just staring and hoping that your dreams for you and me would someday be real. Although I knew of your passion, I never had the  strength to keep up with it. Your colors were almost blinding to me.

I only have myself to blame. Your passion for obsession, your deep need to satisfy your carnal needs, your passion for me. Those thousand and thousands of days, I have never lived up to your passion. I knew that you wanted so much more, so much more from me, but I never radiated the same colors  that you were looking for. But even if this were the case, you always say that I still fill up your world with so much vibrancy.

Today minus a day, you are very lonely. Today minus fifty, a hundred, and a hundred more days… you have been feeling lonely. Being with me is a big discontent to you, but being without me is the last thing you ever want to happen. You tell me time and again all the things that you wish we could be, that you wish I could be once again. As the days passed,  your passion drove me to the wall. Your obsession to get something more from what I can give you kills my spirit, it kills my spirit every single moment.

My colors are not as bright as yours, and it would never be. Your hunger, I could never feed. One thousand eight hundred and forty three days ago, I may have deceived you into thinking that I am The One. Look beneath my youth and my passion, all you see is nothing. And everyday, you want that nothing to turn into something that would feed your every need. While your optimistic nature brought us to these many days of happiness, it gave you a greater amount of disappointment and loneliness… a sad truth to life's balance of pleasure and pain.

Your stubborn nature would never admit to your discontent towards me. While I do not blame you for doing so, I would still leave the door open for you. We cannot keep counting the days that you are smothered with loneliness because you want something you could never have. We cannot keep counting the days that you live in frustration, questions and self- loathing.  Satisfaction would bring you peace. Looking at my emptiness would bring you peace.

Liza, the Goddess With A Thousand Hearts

Liza is a goddess to the eyes of many, but she refuses to look at her reflection. She still has scars from the day that she gave her heart away to any man that would take care of it. Her heart, they say, is as big and open as the rainforest with all its bounty. Much more than her heart, her whole being can shelter thousands of lives and it will still have room for those who wander her way.

Humans are never to be satisfied even if they had the world at their disposal. This lesson, Liza refused to learn. She always saw the good in everyone, even if  it meant not leaving anything for herself. She would pop out her starry eyes with her bare hands, so that she would not see the monster that lies beneath the shadows of pretense. She would slit her wrists, to give her own blood to the thirsty carnivores. All these things she would do, wishing and hoping that maybe someday, soon enough, somebody can take her heart once more without taking its life out of it.

Liza, is a woman to love. I saw her looking in the mirror one day, but all she saw was darkness. She never existed, she said. I was confused because I was staring at a beauty, but she could not see it. She took out her eyes, I remembered. She could not see herself anymore, not even the beauty that's left of her world.

Blind and losing life, Liza kept bleeding herself to feed the appetite of the carnivores. She is a woman that had lived a tragedy all her life. A tragedy that she subjected herself to, all because she wanted somebody to hold her heart for her. Why, I asked, do you trust anyone to hold your lifeline, the thing that makes you exist? She said she feels alive whenever somebody made her pulse rise, and she had learned to love the pain, to love the pain whenever a part of her heart was torn apart and used for immediate satisfaction.

I hated Liza, but I loved her at the same time. I love her. I had asked her loyal subjects if I should just leave, because she is hurting me, too. Hurting, is such a strong word. But I hurt because every time I look at her, her beauty makes me feel pain. Her beauty makes me sad. I’m hurting because such beauty should not have been created at the first place because no one can give it enough justice. The loyal subjects could not understand what I meant, because they never saw the true tragedy of the goddess.

The heart that was given away was sent back to the goddess after it was consumed. She gave it back, pleading the carnivores to make use of it once again. She had offered them so much more than what she had. So much so that she gave away her kingdom, her loyal subjects, her right to living.  It was not a selfless gesture, for she is not Liza anymore. Because from the time she saw nothing of her, now, she is staring back at the faces of the creatures who were eating her alive little by little, until she only had skin and bones left. She is one of them now, she said.  And she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Now it’s just me and the thoughts of Liza, then and now. I thought I saw her walking down the street several times, but I wasn’t paying attention. I know I wouldn’t recognize her when I see her, but the chills in my spine I feel whenever I’m around her pops in every now and again.

I was looking in the mirror, I saw that I had scars on my face, but the scars actually looked good on me. I remembered the goddess again. I wish that Liza just gave something that can be mended, something that’ll leave a mark from your battles but never to bother you if you don’t give it much attention. Just as I was thinking about this, the door opened and there it was, millions of hearts that were given to Liza by the people she gave a little bit of herself to.

They thought that they could save her from damnation, so they gave her their lifeline as she had done for them. They said that the presence of her is like a blanket that keeps them warm at night, a comfort that only an angel can give to them. They knew that her heart was somewhere else and never for them, but anyone who had the pleasure of being around Liza would know that a little bit of her is more than enough to mend a broken soul. 

But there was no Liza. No one to pump blood to those hearts that were sacrificed for her salvation. The hearts, with no source of life, slowly turned into ashes and was blown away by the wind. What was once called love by the hopefuls is now an unfair trade of oneself, wherein somebody takes whatever they can get and the other, making themselves as an offering only to be slaughtered by the hands of human beings that never believed in contentment.