After a broken heart, it seems like everything and everyone reminds you of that person. That’s because you’ve been there and back with love, you’ve experienced all of its tantalizing phases – the flutter in your stomach when you met, the tickle in your heart when you touched, the first freefall, the fire between you, the soft slow moments no one knows about, and then the other side: the difficulties, the differences, the slap in the face, the rockslide into the valley, another freefall, this one less like jumping out of a plane and more like getting swallowed by the earth.
These things are happening all around you all of the time in every corner of the world: strangers unknowingly and daringly playing out the parts of your life.
And that’s your reward.
When your heart breaks, it’s because the love inside has grown too big.
There’s a deep knowledge in your pain, a knowledge that can only be seen from the leeward side of the mountain, that can only be found in the aftermath of catastrophe — a living mosaic of curled, crinkled leaves coming into focus at your feet and talking to you in a chorus of whispers.
You needn’t look for it. It will form around you. It will follow you.
You’ve earned that much.