When it Hits

Sometimes it hits you. You’re moving on and you’re happy. You have other things in your life. You have your friends and your hobbies and the things you’re passionate about and you’re happy. And then one morning it just hits you. You wake up feeling like you’ve been punched in the chest, in the heart, and it hits you that you miss him. You feel as though there’s a part of you that’s missing, the part that he took with him. You know there’s nothing you can do about it except move on. Something holds you back, though. I mean, you thought you were moving on. You thought you were fine. Until it hit you that you miss him more than you were willing to let yourself admit. And all of a sudden all of this composure you had, the walls you had built up, and the barrier protecting your heart just fall down. When it hits, it hits hard. You feel devastated, torn, broken. You’re crying out his name and wishing he would ride in on his white horse and sweep you up into his arms and tell you that he loves you and always will. Isn’t that what love is supposed to be like? Isn’t Prince Charming supposed to kiss the princess and carry her off to his castle for them to live happily ever after? So then, why is love so hard? Why is it so hard to be vulnerable with someone and not be hurt for a change? People put up walls to protect themselves from being hurt, they put up shields against their emotions. From the very first time your heart is broken, you start to become a skeptic. Every time after that you close yourself off little by little. It is so hard to let yourself be vulnerable with someone because of the risk of being hurt. The risk of waking up one day and having it hit you in the heart that he’s gone. You start being more careful about letting yourself fall in love. Once you give away that piece of your heart to someone, it is his to do as he pleases with. He could stick around and give you a piece of his heart in return. But if he takes off running at full speed clutching that piece of you with every fiber of his being, determined to not get caught, you suffer the consequences. Now you must learn to recreate that piece of your heart. You slowly learn to guard it with your life, because the effort it takes to find yourself again is too painful, too draining. You do whatever it takes to prevent yourself from waking up one morning and having it hit you. Even after he does take off running doing his best to drag you along the ground behind him, you still put up walls. You tell yourself you’re happy. You tell yourself you don’t miss him. You tell yourself you’re okay and carefree and young and single and happy. You hide yourself and you put up these barriers, refusing to feel the pain. Anything to prevent yourself from waking up one morning and having it hit you. We are all so terrified of being hurt, of feeling pain. But do we not miss out on all of the love we could have when we protect ourselves the way we do? What if Prince Charming is trying to come riding in but he can’t get past the gate we’ve erected around our hearts?
Those who are truly opening themselves up to happiness are those who let themselves feel the pain, but don’t become overwhelmed by it. Those who wake up one morning and let it hit them that there is something missing from them and know it’s him. Those who cry over it and feel anguish and hurt and let themselves feel all of this pain and despair. And then they wipe away the last tear, they push back their shoulders, and they let themselves be stronger because of the experience. They put effort into becoming a stronger person, instead of building walls. They grow. And then they fall in love all over again. And one day they wake up in the morning and it hits them.

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That they’re happy.

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