Still Beating

There’s a great line in the Alanis Morrisette song, “You Live, You Learn,” in which she recommends “getting your heart trampled on to anyone.” It’s a good philosophy. Heartbreak can be an excellent impetus for change. In between privately spending the majority of February through June sobbing a la Diane Keaton in “Something’s Gotta Give,” I pushed myself in ways I never had. I went hot air ballooning; I started my novel; I joined a writers’ group; I volunteered. In short, I started living life for myself for the first time, as opposed to living vicariously through someone else.

The bittersweet part is all this growth was the result of a broken romantic relationship, too late, it appears, to ever rectify. He was the first person in years I was Really Excited About, capturing the elusive qualities I’d long searched for: warm, genuine, artistic, funny, smart, romantic, easygoing, ambitious. Sparks initially flew. I remember compiling a play list filled with love songs, Elton John and Ray LaMontagne and Etta James. I was falling hard, and, strangely, I was consumed with fear. It felt like we were on a train barreling to imminent disaster. He withdrew and didn’t open up about what was bothering him. After a few months, the growing tension came to a head. “I need someone who has validation from within,” he said in one of several “a-ha moment” observations. The proverbial light bulb went off. I wrote a piece that night called “Want,” based on the notion we have everything we want because we appreciate what we have.

Naturally, I was determined to win him back. Trouble was, by the time he’d told me those life-changing words, he was already gone, at least in a romantic sense. Our initial “break” (“I’m keeping the door open”) was really a break-up. Still, I tried, like a desperate puppy, to make him understand I was changing—because I was. But his feelings had changed to solely one of respect and friendship, something I cherished but simultaneously hated because my deeper feelings hadn’t changed at all.

Looking back, I’m grateful for everything I’ve learned. I would not have accomplished half of what I did this year without the inspiration caused by this pain. Interestingly, as I’ve slowly healed I’ve become my friends’ Love Yoda (tongue-in-cheek, yes). My friends were certainly there for me during the worst of my heartbreak, and now I’ve helped them cope with their recent breakups. As for my future relationships, I’m looking forward to moving ahead and not repeating the same mistakes. I know I won’t because I’m simply a different person now: a truly self-fulfilled one.

On that note, I’m quite pleased to be out West again. I enjoy traveling on my own, meeting up with old friends and meeting new ones. This week in Seattle, I met Hali and Cheryl from PNN at Chopstix Piano Bar. These ladies are as warm in person as they are in their blogs. Hali’s boyfriend, Max, is also very sweet. Cheryl’s friend Karla has this fantastically dry, sharp sense of humor. The piano bar highlight was being serenaded for my birthday! It was kind of spectacular.

Earlier that day, I took a road trip exploring Eastern Washington. (Even better, I went with my friend Joy Laydback, and her beautiful eight-year-old daughter). I loved the varied geography, from the Cascades’ snow-capped pines to the canyons framing the Columbia River. I have always loved the West, and spending time out here, I honestly feel more at home in some ways than I do in my home state, Connecticut! There is nothing like the mountains, the open space and abiding sense of freedom. I suppose it captures the way I feel these days, unfettered, at last, from the past and looking ahead to what’s next, by making the most of what is “now.”