Blogging : A Product of the Broken Hearted

"While still I may, I write for you
the love I lived, the dream I knew."

William Butler Yeats
People say things get easier with time, but in most of my experiences with pain it's been just the opposite. As a hopeful person, I can get through rough days. It's the way they accumulate - each one a measured, constant increment between me and happiness. I started writing Unconventionally Beautiful during a break up when I began to feel the weight of silence for the first time in my life. I was being crushed by the sound of the phone not ringing from the insignificant back and forth that happens between people in love.

No matter how much I enjoyed my alone time - doing alone things like taking myself out to lunch or walking the beach - I hated not having someone to tell how nice it felt to be alone that evening.

So I began blogging. When my whole being itched with the need to talk to him, I talked here. Like a message in a bottle; unable to share something with the only person I wanted to listen, I sent it out to an ocean of unknown. I shared my day to day with an audience that was non-existent and invisible. I felt that somehow this message, that I put out there in 0's and 1's, would get to where I wanted it. There were no goodnight texts, or love letters, they were all done forever. This was an outlet for me to share things that I felt, or things that interested me, the same way I always had, but in a different way. And then, people started reading it

Rather than using this as a place to talk about how broken hearted I was the majority of the time (no need to humiliate myself on every medium possible) I used this as a place to share my happy moments, and declare, time and time again that I was finally happy. I wasn't lying, but I was only acknowledging the good; the same way anyone would treat seeing an exboyfriend on the street

BOY : oh. hey, so funny seeing you. How have you been?
GIRL : so great! I got a new job, a promotion, and a new dog, a new haircut, everything is just so super-duper!
(translation: I've been doing everything possible to fill the space you left when you went away)

Most of the time though, I wasn't happy. I was depressed, self loathing, and so incredibly lonely. I had no way of seeing how I would ever feel whole or worth while again. But, like all things, that time in my life ended and I look back and I feel a weird kind of empathy for a person that feels wholly removed from the person I am today.

I still blog. The desire to speak to whoever would listen was not a new development in my personality, and it didn't leave when the sadness did. I write for you, readers. But, when I really sit down and ask myself 'who is it that I'm speaking to' - it will always be him. His absence became a kind of mold that I crawled inside and it defined me for almost a year. And, like any mold, the form still holds the shape when it's removed.

Lately I've been feeling disconnected and restless with blogging. I find less and less that I have something to put here. It occurred to me today that perhaps there's nothing left to say to the person I've been writing to all this time. Maybe I'm finally okay with the silence between us.


  1. Sam, this is such an incredible entry and speaks volumes to me right now. You may be ok with the silence, but please keep writing for the sake of those who still love reading it (and sometimes need to) :)

  2. Wow, that was an amazing post. I can definitely relate. I think that a lot of people start blogging as a way to fill some sort of silence in their lives. You said it perfectly!

  3. I am so happy to have read this, because it makes you seem real! and it gives me hope for finding happiness too. it is a simple recipe of focusing solely on the positive, and this is something i am striving for every day. You are one place where i get inspiration and remember the little things are good during the hard times. So thank you. and thank you for opening up to show us how you overcame sadness so successfully. Also, maybe you can keep blogging but use it as a different outlet, so don't speak to the ex anymore, but speak to us, your new friends!

  4. So honest and real - so brave of you to put that out there for all to see.
    I hope you do continue writing..for those of us who love escaping for an little while into your words and pictures (from as far away as Australia)..but that would be selfish wouldn't it. I rather hope that you continue to find a 'need' to write, because when you do....its so lovely. xx

  5. thank you so much for this post..
    i myself am going through things like this and this is such an inspiration and also, it's always nice to know you're not alone.. and these sad feelings are just you being 'nut-so'. thank you for being so honest and so open. this really was exactly what i needed.. thank you, thank you, thank you.

  6. Thanks for all your wonderful words ladies. Honesty in this place is something I've been seeking more lately, so I'm happy to know it may have provided you with a little inspiration.

  7. I just started reading your blog. And I came across this. I love the honesty of this post. I, too, started blogging when the person I wanted to talk to most was gone from my life. I spoke to him through my blogs. So, I know how you feel (or felt). That was 6 years ago. It gets easier. In fact, the other day, I was looking out my office window and I thought, "I haven't thought about him in awhile." Six years ago, it seemed like the weight of his absence was never going away. It did. And I didn't even realize exactly when. But it did. So, anyhow, thank you for your lovely post. And your lovely blog. :)

  8. mae I know the feeling. Sorrow is something that recedes slowly, and while the difference is barely noticeable from the day to day I think most people wake up one morning, notice it's absence, and wonder where it's gone.


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