I’m broken. I guess I have known that for a while. Sometimes I wonder if people can see it when they look into my eyes. A forest green with a touch of dead auburn leaves. Or maybe they can see the uncertainty in every step I take. That’s the thing about brokenness, it follows you wherever you go. It haunts you in your dreams and penetrates your mind after dawn. It makes you question every decision you make; its because the people you let in continue to weaponize the trust you gave them and use it as a sword to slice open your heart. You are uncertain because everyone you’ve chosen to help you sew back up the strings decided to betray you watch you bleed out instead.
People imagine brokenness like a wilted flower that once bloomed, although I’m not sure I’ve ever had the chance to blossom at all. I am like the dandelion among the weeds. The one no one notices or pays attention to. The flower that’s stepped on and discarded along with the dirty dried up soil.
But there is something special about being broken, about being the shattered mirror amongst the flawless looking glasses. It’s the love we give, the tainted and endless love, the love that doesn’t give up on someone. We love with our arms wide open because we know what it feels like to run into those that are closed, the arms of the person who was supposed to provide us warmth and security, the arms of the person who walked away too soon. We care too much about the things we can’t control, and we prioritize an unhealthy amount of time for those who matter to us. We do this because we know there is always a chance they will no longer stay. Its second nature, their inevitable goodbyes, but until the day comes, we will spend our nights ruminating on the thought of how to prove we’re worth it.
Broken people are the most kind-hearted, altruistic people you will ever meet. We’re the ones that will break off pieces of ourselves to make our loved ones feel whole. We live for others, and no longer care about ourselves anymore. We do this because we know we’re warriors with wounds that will never heal.
But we are also disasters waiting to strike in the distance. We’re highly emotional and sensitive. Sometimes I feel like I will snap if someone I trust fails me just one more time. Ticking time bombs, I like to call us, treacherous tidal waves. We let our problems sink to the bottom of the ocean like anchors unresolved until the deep sea devil comes out to play. Our anxiety begins to rise all our worries to the surface, only to put them on display at the shore for everyone to see. It’s unhealthy and confusing. After a great deal of thought, I now understand why they always leave. We’re too difficult to love, sometimes it feels like we are incapable of giving handing over our trust. No one likes damaged goods. Once a ship is wrecked, it has no other purpose than to sink to the bottom of the sea.
I wouldn’t change it though, exchange my brokenness for life without disappointment and loneliness, loss, and heartache. I wouldn’t change it because my life means so much more this way. I value the moments before they leave. I wouldn’t change it because I know that the way I love is rare. It is my experiences that have molded me into the affectionate and warmhearted woman that I am today. I’ve come to the conclusion that yes, people will leave, but those who choose to say goodbye have overlooked a small detail they will come to regret.
Yes, I am broken, but I love the hardest. Yes, I am broken, but I am not a weed nor a sunken ship. I am a gem.
The broken ones are the most valuable treasures lost at sea, and those that take the time to look for them, have just struck gold.