In the ween hours of the morning I’ve discovered the word for the day:
bro·ken v. (brkn)
The list goes on and on, but you get the point. For instance, my neck feels broken while lying and typing into a tiny 13-inch screen. Although mended, my heart has been broken. Several times. First it was a broken promise by my father. Then in elementary school by a crush, followed by a high school lover. (Oh playground loves. They always ended up in heartbreak.) I’ve always been an emotional romantic for as long as I can remember. All the letters kept and tucked under my bed. All the telephone conversations that were transcribed into my diary. All the tears I cried into my pillow because it felt so good. Feeling sad or broken gives us the opportunity to live life on the other side of the spectrum.
And what aids you the most when you’re feeling melancholy? A sad, reflective song written in minor keys. Everyone loves a sad love song just as much as we love being sad. We sing along with passion—to tunes that bring us back into an emotion which at one time felt like murder. I’m certainly not the first to think that sadness sometimes brings great joy. The flux from sadness to happiness is the rhythm of life.
You have to know what it’s like to be broken in order to know the value of feeling whole again.