By KRISHA VICTORIA
Image PEXELS

I love getting my heart broken and I swear I am not a masochist. 
Heartbreak is probably one of the most universal human experiences. I think, anyone who has endured it can argue that the pain is simply comparable to death.  

In a heartbreak, we mourn over something or someone we lose, perhaps a crush, a situationship, the person we genuinely hoped we would end up with, or even the slightest potential of something going great. But on top of that, we also grieve the memories made, the comfort and security nurtured, and whatever has been built over time, whether it is love or something else. As if the end of anything weren’t painful enough, we dwell over the what ifs, the regrets, as we spiral into questions that are more often than not left unanswered. 
But that’s not where the death metaphor comes in. In reality, along with our heartbreak, a part of us dies too. 

I could never listen to Niki’s "I Like U" the same way ever again because it would simply remind me of the time it played so casually yet so perfectly in timing as I had my first kiss. I could never walk along the grocery store without thinking of the time I used to have someone pick up pasta from the higher shelves while I fantasized about how wonderful it would be to be married to that someone. I could not stand the smell of Jaeger because it would simply remind me of the time I could let loose, knowing I had someone I felt so safe with. I could not eat ramen without seeing the silhouette of the man dancing along to pop music as he washed the dishes, although he claimed to like rap the best.

The demise of the relationship left me with no choice but to despise certain seasons, places, food, scents, sounds, and even hues I unknowingly grew to associate with my person—I  meant my past person. 
Because along with the heartbreak, I was forced to bury the senses that served as a repository of the love I was given and the love I gave.
But it’s not just the memories that exhibit the parallelism between heartbreaks and death. The version of the person I used to know also died and, with that, a fraction of the naive, idealistic, trusting, and loving person I am also breathed its last. 

I firmly believe I experienced death without dying as I felt the physical pain of a broken heart. In the same way that I grieve over the good memories, I am also lamenting the unpleasant. With every text that went cold, it felt as if a ball and chain were attached to my heart, weighing it down to sink even further. With every fight left unresolved and letdowns left unaddressed, lumps in my throat would form. Fragments of my spirit burned when not even trying my hardest and loving with my all was enough to make the relationship work. 
Heartbreaks are weird. Some days, I just feel like cursing it all out. Other days, it seems to suck every bit of my passion, motivation, and will to live. Then there are days I just feel like crying, and other days when I cannot even cry at all.
But what do I love about heartbreaks? 

Heartbreaks go beyond the uncomfortable feelings of pain, longing, betrayal, and hurt. They are a manifestation of the universe within a person’s heart. Much like stars collapsing into a blackhole to return their energy to the cosmos, heartbreaks often crush us to our rock bottoms in order to bring the love we pour into others back to ourselves. 

A heartbreak, as excruciating as it may sound, has the ability to traverse rose-tinted screens and pierce through the superficiality of life to reveal things for what they really are, which in many cases isn’t quite the image we build of them in our heads. It reveals the values that may have been compromised and the boundaries that may have been crossed in order to hold on, therefore amplifying the inner voices of our hearts so we can finally acknowledge and honor how we truly long and deserve to be loved. 

From every death comes a new birth. From every part of me that dies during a heartbreak emerges a bigger, more resilient, more discerning heart, one that knows its non-negotiables and what it truly values in a relationship. 
I used to often say that I feel like exploding because I have so much love to give without an outlet. Embracing the hurt revealed that I sought relationships as a distraction from the relationship I did not nurture within myself. 

I used to think that having too big of a heart and not being able to love enough were the culprit to my heartaches, but it was in fact my romanticization of people and the hopes I would place in them that led me to break my own heart. There is nothing wrong with having a big heart and loving hard. I just need to be more discerning of the hands I pour them into. 
My heart has gone through a lot, but I love getting my heart broken because I learn to sit with the pain, take in whatever it is I have to learn, and work on the things it revealed about myself.

This keeps me buoyant until the universe thinks I have learned enough to meet the love I deserve. 
Editor’s note: The author is a 19-year-old Filipina-Indian student currently based in the UAE, studying Social Sciences, Business, and Law at the University of Birmingham International.