The One With So Many Questions

Yesterday, I found myself in Starbucks Buenos Aires
(2nd one to be opened real soon like 2 blocks from my apartment)
And I wrote the following, while I waited out the rain to diminish from the morning:

When two hearts are devastated by the circumstances that have been thrown at them, how do you fix them?

IF you can fix it . . .

Especially when one of the heart has already been destroyed before.

How do you make two hearts - whole as one but incomplete without the other - beat again?

Al Green asked the question: "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?". What if the heart is not really broken? What if it is just badly bruised? Too much pressure. Too much injustice done unto them. Too weak to function as once before.

But, most importantly, how can one heart convince the other that it will be alright? Especially since that heart is now hurting, too? How can you convince one when the other needs reassurance as well?

Some can go through ordeals without feeling anything in the end. Some can pick themselves up after they fall and move on. Others need a helping hand. And some refuse to be helped.

We have all been damaged. In so many ways. Some of us more than others. Some so damaged that the wound has not been healed. And when someone comes along that seemed too good to be true, is it really so?

But what if that person truly is sincere? The one that will help with the healing? What if that is THE one? Will the hurt of the past be so blinding that you will not be able to see what is truly in front of you, with all heart's earnest?

What if there is only one chance to regain your happiness? But you let it pass because the healing has not taken affect? And what if you let it go because you do not want to be hurt again and to reopen all the wounds you have worked so hard to heal?

Would you be letting go of something real because you are afraid of something else that lingers deeply in the back of your mind?

Only you truly know the answer to all these questions. Only you can decide what you want of yourself. Of your future. Of the other . . .

And in the meantime, I shall wait . . .