A Good Sign

“This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something.”
~ Elizabeth Gilbert
_________________________

I found this quote on Tumblr today, and it made me think.  Is it?  Is it really a good sign?

I do have a broken heart right now.  So many important things have fallen apart on me, and I have no way to fix them.  In my crafting/art life, I've found that when you need to make a bond between something that is fragile or heavy that's been damaged, pottery, porcelain, glass, you need adhesive on both sides of the break.  The glue on both sides fuses together to mend what's broken.  Right now, in the situation that is bothering me worst, I can tell you for certain that there's no interest in mending on the other side, so I guess all the pieces will continue to lie on the floor, sharp shards that will keep cutting me every time I pass.

As teachers, we are not supposed to have favorites.  It happens, though, whether we want it to or not.  Certain students are more compatible with our own personalities, give more in class, connect with our subject area.  To borrow the cliche, it is what it is.  Some kids just get to you.

That can be a great blessing or a great curse.  This year, it's been both.  I've had two classes that have kept me in stitches, been the highlights of my day.  Not everything has been roses and candy, of course.  It's school.  I teach.  Things happen.  For the most part, though, we've rocked along, up, down, good days and bad, but going about the business of getting the education done.

Then, right at the very end of the year, the wheels came off with one of the ones who has been one of my best.  It arose suddenly, like all storms do.  It was totally surreal to the point of me asking if it was some kind of joke in poor taste.  The revelation of it all hurt.  I did not then and cannot now understand it.  Every time I think about the fact that things are ending this way, though, I feel sick and old and tired.  And disappointed.  And disillusioned.  And foolish.  And I don't want to do this anymore.

I suppose it bothers me most because I perceived it all so totally wrong.   The individual in question had been such a source of joy for me.  Usually, my instincts are fairly reliable.  To have misread this so completely, to have misunderstood so much makes me unable to trust them at all, though.  If I've been wrong about this, then, what else has to be questioned?  Basically, everything.

So no.  I don't think it's a good sign to have a broken heart.  I don't think it's a glorious sign of great adventure. I just think it means that you did something stupid, put yourself in harm's way somehow and got smacked for your troubles, and, like any other pain, it's your survival instinct's way of telling you, "Congratulations.  You've survived.  Probably.  Let's not do that again."

I can't help but wish, though, that before it all is said and done that it could be mended.  I do not think that it will be.