Ten Hearts

So my first question is, “How many of you have had your hearts broken?” And I don’t mean just by a boyfriend or girlfriend or any romantic interests in general. I mean by best friends who backstabbed you, by parents who either try too hard or not enough. By your heroes who turn out to be jerks. A book that leaves you shattered or a song that tears you in two. And, lastly, of course, by people and things that aren’t even aware of what they’re doing to you. Yeah, we’ve all had our hearts broken.

Me? I’ve had my heart broken many times. Not only by people and events out of my control, but by life in general. Because life, no matter who you are, will always try to break you. It’s not prejudiced or racist or biased. It’s not out to get just you, even though I know it feels like that sometimes, trust me, I know. I’ve done things I’m not proud of; been a person not worth knowing. And I’ve done things that’ve left me with enough pride and happiness for the rest of my days. But the one constant in all these situations is that my heart was ripped out repeatedly in one way or another. I always wondered if having a heart was even worth it anymore. Which leads to my second question…

“What do you think of worms?” do you think they’re slimy? Squishy? Blind little gross things that burrow in our gardens and lawns and drown in the rain? Or do you think of it as a descriptive term for a person who’s a coward or a traitor or a sneak? Well, whatever you think, know this: according to Snapple “Real Facts” #750, “The common garden worm has five pairs of hearts.” Ten hearts. Those tiny creatures have TEN HEARTS!

So when you’re like me and you wonder what’s the point of having a heart if it just keeps getting broken, remember the worms. Because I think the scariest part of getting our hearts crushed is that we don’t know when they’ll heal, when the pain will go away and we’ll feel whole again. We just don’t know.

That’s why we have to go out and live as if we have five pairs of hearts. If those miniscule worms can do it, surely us humans, who think ourselves so great, can pull it off. Now what do I mean by this? I mean go out and live as if you’re not afraid of having your heart broken because you have nine more of them waiting in tip top shape. You’re safe.

Go out. Go get your heart broken over and over again by people, places, things; by life itself. And one day you’ll see that you didn’t need nine other hearts; the first was good enough, strong enough right from the start.

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