From someone's blog I have been reading:
Winter always gives way to spring.
The seasons of the soul, however, tell an admittedly different tale.
The gusts of heartbreak inevitably come, the deaths and disappointments
and disparities and devastation, and before we’ve even caught our breath
we’re standing naked and leafless in the dead of winter.
Without him, without it, without that, without her, we don’t think
we’ll ever make it out of the cold. Some people never do.
Slowly, ever so slowly, if we begin to painfully examine ourselves,
our leafless, job-less, boyfriend-less, parent-less selves, we recognize that
beauty remains. Like the barren tree silhouetted on the mountainside,
we become heralds of simplicity.
Friends still sit with us. Children still hug our knees.
Songs still speak the words we’re pressed to find.
Until we learn to embrace our bare, exposed branches and recognize our worth
apart from titles and talents, the buds of spring cannot surface, heralding new life.
When we learn to love ourselves, winter never wins.
Todd Clayton @ thoughtcatalog
Exactly What Heartbreak Feels Like
Excerpt