The definitive guide to heartbreak

I’ve been there. And now I’m here to help you

Madelaine Lucy Hanson

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I know: I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t know the sound of his voice down a lonely telephone line, the way his eyes glow in the autumn gloom, the shape of his thumb on the nape of your neck, or the way he kisses you like you’re made of glass. I don’t know what his arm feels like around your waist, the electricity you feel when he reaches for you in the dark, or the way his name sounds in your mouth. Your grief is fractural, unique, written in lines of a language only you speak, experienced in a body only you have experienced the edges of. I don’t know your love, and I don’t know your pain. But I do know that you’re going to get better.

The Definitive Guide To Heartbreak

Heartbreak is, easily, the worst thing I’ve ever, ever experienced. And I say that as a rape survivor, a child who grew up with a critically ill parent, and a woman who survived crippling psychological abuse. Absolutely nothing life threw at me was as bad as those first bitter months of life without him. Knowing he didn’t love me, knowing he wasn’t coming back, knowing he was in the arms of someone knew. Knowing I couldn’t pick up the phone and hear that wonderful thick, soft low voice say my name, knowing I’d never open my letterbox again to a beautiful letter in round careful handwriting. I lay in the dark for the longest time. The grief gnawed at me, relentlessly, whatever I was doing, whatever I was thinking. I wanted to scream, and sometimes I did. I showered three or four times a day just to feel my heart beating, my weight supported by me legs. I couldn’t eat anything- living felt pointless. Even sleeping felt like failing myself in having to keep going past him. If I had to explain the physical symptoms, I’d say it was like having hands hard around your throat constantly, choking you. Like having stones on your chest, crushing your lungs. Like an off-switch had turned off the light in your head and left you in total darkness, stumbling for any parameters of a tomorrow. Like nothing could stop the obsessive, rolling pain coming from your eyes, streaming down your face until it stung with salt. Nothing had ever hurt me as deeply as losing the man I wanted to marry so unexpectedly, so suddenly, and to someone else. Honestly, I don’t think anything ever could.

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Madelaine Lucy Hanson

27 year old with an awful lot to say about everything. Opinions entirely my own. Usually.