09 April 2011

Clinging to my war wounds.

After all, heartbreak and breakups are the hardest kind of work. So shouldn’t there be some sort of credit for enduring them? And if not, how do you retain a sense of value when you have nothing concrete to show for it? Because at the end of yet another failed relationship, when all you have are war wounds and self doubt, you have to wonder, what’s it all worth?
-Carrie Bradshaw

Maybe I've been watching too much Sex & the City (I own a majority of the seasons, but something about the seasonal randomness about them being on E! and the fact that they choose the episodes for me makes it so much more fun to watch--same goes for The Nanny), but rewatching these episodes strikes chords that I swore were buried deep within and tucked away.

See, I watched all these episodes back when they were first syndicated on HBO. I was obsessed from a young age--I think I started watching when I was like, 10 (1999, I think?).  Whatever, this doesn't matter. The point is that only now, rewatching these as an adult, do I see what a saving grace this show is to single women like myself.

So I begin this posting with a quote like this--one about suffering the toil of a breakup, a "kayak" as I've come to call it.  And how for a long, long time I went around wearing my pain, or hiding behind it. How, in a group of friends where I was the only single one, I would bring down the mood by showing my scars--not physical ones, but the worst kind of scars of all: the ones on a heart.
I've long thought if this pain, acquired from this one stupid relationship, and if it was all worth it. But in the past year, I have never learned so much about myself--the things I deserve, the things I want, and the people who aren't going to make these things possible for me.

And so my answer is this: if it means an awkward year of being that person in those crowds, if it means hitting your head against the walls and getting slumped down in the muckiness of love, if it means searching yourself for what you're doing wrong and realizing it's really not you but them--it's worth it. 100%. Even though I'm still hurting and still alone, it was worth it. And realizing this, that's what it's all worth.
Namaste, Lovers and Hurters.


  1. When I read your blog entry, It reminded me of a story that I had heard many years ago. It stuck with me, and I want to share it with you.

    The Perfect Heart
    Author: Unknown
    One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.
    Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said “Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.” The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.
    The people stared - how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought? The young man looked at the old man’s heart and saw its state and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”
    “Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges - - giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”
    The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side. How sad it must be to go through life with a whole untouched heart.

    Contemplate this Cassandra,,

  2. Wow. Thank you spage8 (Scott, as I finally now find out).
    And I thank you. Did you write this, or is it really unknown? It's beautiful.
    I have so much to think about.

  3. You are most welcome. The story is really by an unknown author. Looking forward to seeing your progress....


Tell me all your thoughts on cats.