A letter to the broken

I see you.

You’re standing there at the grocery store fumbling with items in your cart, trying to figure out which ones you’ll actually eat this week.

I see you at the mall trying to fix emotions with shoes and handbags.

I see you at the gym pounding the treadmill like it gives you oxygen.

I recognize you by that vacant look in your eye, the pool of heartache that keeps the tears barely at bay.

I see you.

Every day you’re walking around with an emptiness that can’t be fixed with morning coffee, exercise, or even the best pasta at Fazolis.

And you’re trying.

You’re trying to remember what got you here and forget the one who broke you.
But even during the months where you forget to pay the water bill, you still remember to check their horoscope. 

You still have mornings expecting to roll over to them in your bed.

You have days where you regret having fallen in love at all, realizing now why they call it “falling”.

Somewhere along the way you lost yourself.

You forgot what your dreams were because the minute this person came into your life they became your dream.
They absorbed you like a sponge and stole all the greatest parts of you.
You stuffed secrets into them like pockets, leaving whispers of your darkest fears buried deep within their soul.

I see you fighting something.
Looking for your soul.

You try to clean up your life and navigate the chaos.
You fight hard to forgive yourself for the decisions you’ve made, the ones you still call mistakes as you tuck them in at night. 

I see you.

Too young to know better, too old to still be in it.

Parts of you would take them back the second the opportunity presented itself, the other parts of you are trying to remember why being on your own is important.

I see you because I’ve been there.

But someday you’re going to forgive yourself.

You’re going to hurt people, that’s inevitable.
You’re going to say the wrong things and break hearts.
And you’re going to get broken.

Someone is going to continually step on your toes until you don’t have any left.
But when that day comes, remember who you are.
Remember that you are not the number on the scale, the groceries in your cart, the number of friends you have, the amount of debt you have, the eyebrows you always forget to wax.

And when it comes to loving again, know that you can do it.
Because love isn’t perfect and it doesn’t come easy.
Other people will come with flaws just as you have, but at no point were your flaws ever too much.

We meet people who we’re not meant to be with.
We fall in love so easily now.
We read books and instantly add them to our lists of favorite things, and it’s so easy to become infatuated with a song you heard on the radio.
You see a handbag at the mall that becomes your new favorite color in seconds.
And we keep falling in love every day.
We find little things everywhere that we instantly want to make our own.
And you made them your own.
You loved them, gave them your all.

They were your person.
You poured more heart into them than you ever gave yourself.

But now, you have to take it back.
I see you, and it’s your time.


You’re so easy to fall in love with, you don’t even see it.
But when it comes to letting yourself love, find the one who loves the rawest parts of you.

Find the one who loves your laugh or the obnoxious way you clap when you’re laughing too hard.
Find the one who smiles at your morning hair and finds your maintenance tedious.
Find the one who loves your bad parts along with your good.
The one who can handle your moody period weeks and your random 2am sadness.
The one who can handle your excessive worrying or daily anxieties.
Find the one who knows how to touch you without ever doing it physically.
Find the one who doesn’t make you question yourself.

And don’t ever question yourself.

I see you in all of your fierceness.
Maybe you’re a little bit broken, but mostly you’re just cracked.
Cracks can heal, piece by piece, day by day.
So keep going.
Keep moving.

I see you in your weakest hour and I feel it too.
I’m there.
The random crying fits, the songs you can’t stand, the nights alone drinking wine like tea, staring at couples, feeling bitter.

But we’ve got this.
This is making us stronger.
And one day it will all make sense.
We’re becoming better people.

Someday you're going to have the words of wisdom to carry someone else through their own heartache.
You're going to whisper to your own children, listening to their cries, holding them like you needed held.
And you're going to realize that this awful chapter in your life was just that: a chapter.

So today, turn the page.
Fill up your cart with whatever you want, pound that treadmill, buy that handbag, whatever is going to get you through this, and know that you’ve got this.
You really really do.