I tried to date someone with a broken heart. I guess the heart in me wanted to be there for her, love, adore and comfort her. I could tell she was a good person and that she had just been badly hurt. There was something about her that just pulled me like a magnet. The chemistry was off the charts.
But the harsh reality was that she was suffering from a broken relationship that ended sometime ago. What I failed to realise was that the more time I spent with her, the more I would just fall for her and want to get closer and closer to her, and wanted her to do the same for me. This was when our problems became clear.
Her heart wasn’t ready for it.
It was in protection mode. Severely damaged. I could say a thousand words, but I couldn’t speak straight to that broken heart and assure the heart that it was safe. It was too damaged to listen, too guarded to care. And I get it. I have had my heart broken too.
The tragedy of humans is that we often love the wrong people – people who don’t really care about us. And when good people come along, for some reason, we just won’t let them in.
Perhaps it seems too good to be true. But over and over again, I see males and females (it’s not gender specific) pushing away good mates who would actually take really good care of them. Maybe some people just want a chase or something they can’t have.
I ask myself this question: why did God give me a soft heart?
I noticed it. I looked for it. Manners, kindness and all that. I don’t blink twice at “girls.” I’ve evolved.
I love pretty ladies with a sense of humour. Someone who will be there for me, compliment me, ask how my day has been. I love everything about love.
I know I deserve it and I can fully appreciate it. Once you experience ladies treating you like this, you’re unable to accept less – to accept just any behaviour.
You can’t love someone when you’re broken – when your heart is still full of love and anguish for someone else. It needs time to detach itself.
And that sounds so crazy because we are talking about an organ here as though it had some magical powers to love. But why do we always talk about the heart when we talk about love?
Who came up with the idea that love lives in your heart anyway? Maybe it’s because you feel love in your chest? We put our hands over our hearts when we say the Ghana pledge, that indicates its something sacred.
When we get devastating news, our hand covers our heart in pain, as if to cover the hurt inside – inside our hearts. I just think it’s interesting. I have no proof love actually resides inside the human heart, but I am going to assume it does. It has to be somewhere in our body, right? Otherwise we wouldn’t feel it. But back to my point about broken hearts.
Even if that person left you, your heart hasn’t had time to empty itself of the love within. This is both a blessing and a curse because it means when you love someone it sticks. It’s not so easy to get rid of.
If it were, we would all move on quickly and with few tears. I recently tried loving someone who was in the middle of a breakup. It was near impossible. I could tell she wanted to accept my love and take it all in. But it was as though there were a hole in her heart, and everything I poured into it just couldn’t stay inside.
I now know firsthand the importance of healing a broken heart from my own experience and watching hers.
We thought we could avoid it, quicken it, or overlook the fact her heart was broken by building a new relationship with each other. How mistaken we were!
We sadly realised that that’s simply not how it works. She was only capable of giving me half of herself, and I am incapable of giving anything but all of me.
I love big time. I’m all in when I find someone I truly value. So it was unbalanced. She needed more time to catch up to my healed and beating, ready-to-love heart. She just wasn’t ready yet.
I think of her every day. I truly hope she finds the healing she needs. She may never come back (I didn’t break her heart) – I know that. But I miss her a lot and I know she needs me too.
Source: Nene Kabutey Dosoo
Facebook: Nene Kabutey Dosoo