A broken heart is an amazing, interesting thing. I am still wondering what to do with it, a year later. It brings me excitement and misery, enlightenment and nostalgic frustration, anger and empowerment, all within a day's light. I don't know whether to let it go, to let it fly away, to keep it locked up, to put it on a shelf, to open it up again, or lock it up forever. I am not the first to go through this. I hope it will be the last time I will go through this, but nothing of course is certain, thank goodness. My advice to me, is the advice given time and time again, to countless women and men who have had the opportunity to lose the love that was holding them together in every possible way. The glue, the cement, the mold, the foundation, the structure, the framework. With one quick, swift, unexpected move, all is lost and nothing is familiar. Learning to blink and catch a breath and swallow. Then you begin to move again, slowly. It takes time, but all the awhile you are aware that this is your moment; your moment to become who you once were, to become acquainted with the person you left behind so many years ago... And then, you realize what others before you have realized, that all the cliches you have heard and said and never understood not quite so much until now, are true. Amazingly true. Time heals all wounds. It wasn't meant to be. Don't worry, you will meet someone. That is a favorite of many people. These meaningless sayings become tangible, and life saving. You cling to them because it is all you have left. These abstract hopes become realizations, very realistic realizations... And then, one day, all is clear, at least somewhat clear, and you continue moving, and look outside of yourself, outside of your past, and beyond yesterday, and you see tomorrow.

And now, a year later, I sit here with my broken heart in one hand and my open heart in another, and both dread and anticipate the day that I fall in love again.