Love Is The Best Revenge
“Love comes to those who still hope even though they’ve been disappointed, to those who still believe even though they’ve been betrayed, to those who still love even though they’ve been hurt before.”
Who hasn’t wanted to throw in the towel, join a convent, become a loner, join the Foreign Legion, live on a deserted island with only a soccer ball to give them shit, and padlock their heart for safe keeping, throwing away the key, after a love affair has crashed and burned?
Show of hands?
I have mucho experience in this field. I have been epically dumped, numerous times, so I’m an expert. And that’s all the dirty details you get today.
Each time, even as the sheets were cooling off, I worked really hard to keep my heart open, cuts, bruises, skid marks and all. I could be laying in my bed, boo-hoo-hooing my head off, snot all over my pillow, and the mantra that would keep repeating in my head-full-of-sorrow would be this:
“Keep your heart open Janet, don’t close your heart.”
Well, maybe not at first – but it always did sooner rather than later.
And you wanna know why?
Because it gave me another chance to fall in love, and THAT is one of my top five, all time, stupid smile on my face, greatest things EVER, why we are here, wouldn’t give it up for the world, FAVORITE things to do.
I love feeling that chemistry when you first meet someone new. The giggly phone calls, dating, getting to know someone, and eventually feeling that little tingle that let’s you know – holy shit… I’m falling in love.
This wounded heart is on the mend. I recognize that feeling, its…love.
It amazing how resilient that muscle can be. Love is like a magic elixir that just washes away all the pain and hurt, all the betrayal, doubt and fear.
Until I met someone new, (and I know you think that will NEVER happen again, but I can assure you – it will), I’d marinate my heart in love by watching movies and reading books that reminded me that I could feel it again. I’d even hang around my lovey-dovey married friends.
Like an athlete keeping their muscles supple by stretching. Often it was an excruciatingly painful process.
I would have much rather stayed bitchy and bitter.
I’m sure you know what I mean.
But the alternative, an atrophied heart, hard and cold, unable to let in the love, was unacceptable to me.
I’d rather love than be right.
I’d rather love than feel vindicated.
I’d rather love than be mad.
I’d rather love than get even.
Before you smack me, take a minute. You know I’m right.
* This also works inside a relationship when you forget why you love them and you want to grab them by the throat and see them suffer…oh, maybe that’s just me.
Sending you big, big, love,