Not everyone has an ex who they are forced to think about one day a year. I do. So in honor of the early St. Patrick's Day celebrations tomorrow where I am sure to eat my weight in tots, as well as spew out a few bitter remarks, I thought I'd get serious for a moment and say how I feel without the aid of green beer.
If you’ve ever had your heart broken, you know how it goes: the world becomes a dark, cold place.
Nothing will be good ever again. Everything—BUT EVERYTHING reminds you of that person, right down to the type of cement they use to pave your sidewalks. When you brush your teeth, you remember the time you bought toothbrushes together and suddenly you find yourself bawling and brushing, bawling and brushing. It’s an awkward way to brush your teeth, with tears streaming down your face.
But eventually, just like they said it would, things get better. Even though you promised that this time things wouldn’t. And you don’t even know how it happened, or when it happened. But you find new music that doesn’t make your eyes brim, and you find new people that have no idea about your past. And one day you find someone that makes you happier—BUT HAPPIER than you can ever remember being, even happier than back when you used to buy toothbrushes together and you were sure that it was the best you would ever be.
You start thinking, why did I cry so much? How could I have thought there’d be no one better? You remember the stupid crap you put up with. You remember that you used to cry, even when you were still together. You remember that you were always a little in love with their best friend anyway, and you realize how disastrous that could have been.
You look back at pictures of yourself from when you were heartbroken, and your heart breaks all over again. But this time, it isn’t for the person you loved. It’s for the person you were. You want to reach out to your old self, gather yourself up in your arms and just rock. And rock. And rock. You want to say, “Oh my God you are about to meet someone so amazing and you don’t even know it.” And you want to say, “Get off of that couch. Brush your teeth like a normal person. Trust me, you don’t need to cry.”
But you did. Because you needed the world to feel colorless before you’d ever notice how blue the sky could be.
And it turns out, everything the other didn’t want, everything that made you question the choices you made and the way you spoke or stood or laughed, those are the things that make you and your new love fit just right. This must be how a lost puzzle piece feels, you think, when it’s saved from a vacuum or a dog's rogue tongue and finally finds its home. Your corner of bright green makes so much more sense when you see the whole grassy field.
If you’ve ever been in love, you know how it goes—the world becomes the most dazzling place.