You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.
“ Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting.
http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2010/10/04/readers-story-the-perfect-heart/
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Tears start to build up at the corner of my eyes while I read these beautiful lines. I have always been emotional and easily stirred by stories about love that I can relate to. (which is very contradictory, since I’m not a fan of romantic movies.) But anyway…..
I am truly idealistic when it comes to love and relationships. I am an admirer of fairytales, ideal man and dream boy. I had five relationships, fell in love three times and died three times. The latter changed my life into something I never wished for.
Perfectionist, choosy, fussy.
Whatever they call it, I’m not exactly what the word defines. I’m like any other ordinary girls, with just a unique character. And this uniqueness, I must admit makes everything hard.
“Every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.”
I love this line.
The very first time I have given my love was to a boy whom I considered to be my ideal man. Well, HE WAS, not until I found out that even the “almost” perfect man can still break a heart. I have given all my love to him and until now I’m still astonished knowing that a long time ago I had an enormous love to give. I tore out my heart for him, let it bled for him and eventually I let it died for him but because “the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges”. And up until now, I can see those rough edges turned into scars and I think it will reside here in my heart forever.
Yet there are times I like to remember the first time I fall in love. The feeling was heaven. It was ecstasy, sweet and wonderful. How I wish someday I can feel that feeling again and I wish someday I can call someone my “baby” again.
“Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me.”
I love this line.
The second round of my love story was different. Different because I love this person but I’m not in love with him. I love him because he became someone I wanted to have. Someone who listened to every animosity, screams, disappointments, hatreds and failures I had. And he never complained, not that I know of. I let myself love him more than a friend. He became my soul mate. (if it’s the right word to describe our relationship). He was my mirror of a mad life. I have given him the remaining piece of my heart and 5 years have passed, he hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. Or maybe I did not feel it, or maybe I refused to perceive it because I know if he did give his heart to me, it will not suffice to what I have lost. It is not enough to fill the empty gouges.
“Dota or Dotz” that’s what I treasured the most about us. Nicknames that still attach us to each other and even I cursed him to death before I still would like to remember July 11 as Dota day.
“Giving love is taking a chance.”
I love this line.
For the third and sweetest time, I fell in love. And it was like the first time, I was happy. Indescribable happiness. I never had the idea that I still have a piece of my heart to give and I guess, it was meant to stay unnoticed all these years because it was meant for him. A piece of my heart left only for him. I took a chance and it’s all worth it. He was the man of 24/7. He never gets bored and tired to call and say I love you. He, my bebz never failed to amused me and filled me with sweetness I longed to have. He could possibly be the man I wanted to have all my life and he could possibly be the man that could give me the never-ending chill in my spine. =)
Yet there are circumstances that are inevitable and I have no control of. When it happened, I slipped a grip of him or perhaps he did loosen the grip, letting me go without proclaiming a battle. I was hurt and broken. That is the truth.
I cried. I hated. I died.
Impossible turns into something possible yet I need to realize that the possible could also turn into something impossible. Maybe he is still not the one but I still hope someday he may return and fill the space I have waiting.
And if he doesn’t return, I’ll take a step forward smiling.
Idealistic and dreamer I maybe, I know wherever this step will lead me, I will find him and he will find me.
Love,
Me
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