By Nalyn Tindall
At the international gate of the Melbourne Airport, tears rolling off my cheeks, I say I’ll see you soon—we both know it’s because I can’t muster up the courage to actually say goodbye. I love you so much but we both know it could never be.
Standing on the crumbling sidewalk in front of my parents’ house, we kiss for the final time, and though I continue to see you, that version of us is gone. I love you so much but we can’t hold each other back.
On a secluded park bench downtown, we really do say goodbye, and though that won’t be the last time we talk, I know your hand will never be in mine again. I love you so much but you were never meant for me.
Heartbreak is a word I’m all too familiar with. It’s a feeling I’ve become accustomed to, yet one that never becomes easier. I’ve moved across the country and then across the world, letting go of people who taught me how to love each time, and every time I’ve had to remind myself that heartbreak isn’t the end.
Each time I take a step forward in life, I find myself having to leave something behind. I know I become a better person for it yet that doesn’t make the heartache any easier. Growth is a truly painful process.
Without heartbreak, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I wouldn’t have met all of the people who have shaped me, but more importantly, I wouldn’t have met myself.
I am a culmination of every person I’ve loved—each friend, co-worker, teacher and partner I’ve had the privilege to know. Each of them instilling their quirks and habits into me. In every piece of artwork hanging on my wall and each trinket or piece of clothing that’s made its way into my belongings, I’m reminded throughout the day of everyone who’s shaped me.
Surrounded by relics of lost love, not weighing me down, but lifting me up and reminding me that I have loved and been loved.
Without heartbreak, I wouldn’t have learned how important pain can be. I wouldn’t have learned how strong I am, how persistent I can be or how much my love truly matters. I wouldn’t have learned how to let go, and despite it being a struggle of mine, I’m happy to say it’s gradually becoming a strength.
I’d be lying, however, if I said heartbreak is all for gain. The loss that comes with letting go of those who help to brighten your day, help you love yourself for your own quirks and habits and form your brightest memories is a pain unlike any other.
“I am a culmination of every person I’ve loved”
So wallow in the pain that heartbreak holds—cry and scream and curse the world as I have. It won’t get easier, but what I’ve realized after a few times is that you will love again.
My tear-stained pillowcases tell my stories of lost love better than I ever could. So instead of reading those, relish in the many forms of heartbreak represented in the pages which unfold before you.
I hope this issue can help you reflect on the times your heart’s been broken, from the smallest cracks to the most cataclysmic shatter. Whether you were ghosted by a two-day situationship or had to say goodbye to the love of your life, I hope you can find something you relate to and realize if heartbreak is anything, it’s OK.
P.S. I hope you know, I’ll always love you—I know I said I’m getting better at letting go, but I really don’t think I ever could.
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