“Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
–Mark Twain
The nightclub of love has three exits. There’s Disconnection, the door you choose. There’s the Dump, when a bouncer chooses for you. And there’s Death, the trap door that appears under your feet. All three are heartbreaking.
You may be tempted to skip the line and pocket that cover charge. But heartbreak is inevitable in a life of meaning. If you have the option, orient toward heartbreak. It’s counterintuitive, I know.
Heartbreak is the closing punctuation of human connection. Sometimes it’s !
sometimes it’s ?
and sometimes it’s a lingering ...
but every clause must come to a close. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t write the story of your life.
Heartbreak is the end of a novel you love. Heartbreak is turning your child who needs you into an adult who does not. Heartbreak is the kaleidoscopic explosion of a soap bubble on the tip of a curious finger. Heartbreak is evidence that your heart works at all.
There is only one way to avoid heartbreak, as far as I know. Die young. Before you even know what heartbreak means. But that only allots the pain to everyone who knows you.
Like a tax on human happiness, someone has to experience the burden. You might as well own your share, and live.