Take this old stone wall
Replace it with a bleeding heart
That beats at a steadfast pace
That soaks the ones you love
My blood can only run so long
So cover me with yours
And make me a stone wall
Whose strength in you remains
I hurt easily. I cry easily. I don’t hurt and cry at just anything, but if just the right nerve is hit I’m finished. When we go to mass and remember my grandfather, after whom I am named and for whom I have a lot of respect, I do not cry. When they do the part of the Oscars where they remember all the film-related people who died in the past year, I do not cry. When my hometown basketball team wins the NBA Finals, I do not cry.
One of the things I do hurt and cry over is relationships, particularly when one is lost, and right now I am feeling that pain. It’s been a few years since I felt the loss of losing a meaningful relationship. It’s been about 4 years, to be exact. The last time I felt this pain, I was running for my life from a situation so toxic that it would have killed me to stay in it. A lost relationship, I have found, feels like a piece of me is missing. Like an arm or something. After time, one can become accustomed to living without an arm. I don’t always use my arms, like when I’m sleeping or watching television, but I sure would notice if they weren’t there.
This is how God made us human beings, I believe. We should care about relationships, we were made to care about them. It seems there is something broken in one who lives without caring for relationships. I don’t mind caring, and I don’t feel cursed that I hurt and cry when a relationship is broken. I guess that’s why one of my strengths, according to the Strengthsfinder assessment is “Harmony.” A severed relationship is like torture to me, and a mended one for a time sets the world right to me.
Here is what I want, though. I want the love I have to be stronger, more divine, more faithful, so that I have enough to give and continue to give. I want to love hard and love all. When someone feels my love, I want them to know that they have experienced not only my love, but the love that fuels my love. The love that has loved me when I did not know what love was, the love that taught me to hurt and cry.
I am proud to have a bleeding heart, and I am fine with bleeding through the tears from my eyes. I just don’t want to bleed out.