Queen of Hearts.

You’d think that I’d be used to a broken heart by now.

One could even say I’m the queen of broken hearts.

I’ve got the signs down to a tee:

That sixth sense of imminent disaster, the pounding of my heart when those first deadly words of rejection tear through my eyes or whip through my ears. That sinking feeling of dread, disappointment, and the pure shattering of my heart as I accept his testimony of truth: he doesn’t like me.

Alas, I am not used to it.

As tears pool themselves in my eyes, as they plop plop plop down onto my cat’s back as she sits here on my lap consoling me with her purrs, I feel the weight of this broken heart, and all the pieces of it I have to pick up and put back together again.

You know that guy I liked, the one I was preparing to bravely confess my feelings to?

Well, it turns out he doesn’t feel the same way about me.

After weeks of feeling confused about our status, after being dropped off night after night wondering, “What are we? Friends? Dating? Stuck in the middle?”, I finally broached the subject with him.

Being one of the rare men that actually agreed to talk to me in person about it, I invited him over and sat curled up in my chair as he explained why.

The reasons don’t matter here, what matters is that I felt rejected. My feelings, left out there in the open, were left unreciprocated and it hurt.

Somehow, I managed to keep the tears at bay as he listed all the reasons for not being ready to date me, and while I appreciated the honesty and the boundaries he was clearly setting, I still felt that all this time, I had been let on.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. Yet there I was, heartbroken nonetheless! He talked about not wanting to be “another one of those bad guys” that broke my heart, but I was already mentally adding him to the list of heartbreakers.

Time has passed since we last talked, and since then, I’ve had lots to think about.

After meticulously sifting through my emotions and extensively talking about what happened with friends and family, I realized something beautiful in this heartbreak.

I made it out okay.

Surrrrrrre, I was rejected, but I’m forgetting the courage it took to confess my feelings in the first place and all the growth I experienced because of it.

In the past, I probably would have let this “friendship” go on longer, hiding and denying my feelings, avoiding the possibility of rejection and loss. I would’ve suffered in silence just to keep him in my life, but this time, I thought, “no more.” I put myself out there, fully naked and vulnerable and though it was met with an awkward answer, I feel at peace because at least I was truthful, to myself and to him.

Despite all the pain I’ve suffered in the past with men who weren’t right for me, for all the ones who ghosted me, stood me up, who made fun of me, who felt intimidated, or who didn’t appreciate the goddess that lives in this bodacious body, I feel I am making progress in managing my feelings and controlling how much I let this heartbreak linger. I’m tired of letting men affect me so deeply and this time, I refused to let the pain outstay its welcome. And I am proud of myself for recognizing and reigning my emotions to a manageable level.

This will probably not be the last time some guy breaks my heart. But I can say with certainty that it’s getting easier to move on and realize when something needs to be said. And I would rather have my heart broken hearing the truth, than sacrifice my happiness, never knowing where I stand with them.

Surprisingly, we have both agreed to remain friends. Swept up in the emotion, the fantasy, and the attention of a male, I came to the conclusion that maybe we’re better off as that, and as uncomfy as the conversation was, it was needed, and I’m glad we had it.

And that broken heart? I picked those pieces up and put them back together, all by myself: the Queen of (no more broken) Hearts…