Far More- The Honorary Title

The heartbroken.
They are everyone. I am one of them. My friend, D, is one of them. My sister, J, is one of them. The man you pass on the street is one of them. The woman working at the grocery store is one of them. Your boss is one of them. That girl who always looks so perfect and is constantly surrounded by her pack of perfect friends, is one of them. The boy with his face constantly hidden in a book, is one of them. We are all over the planet. We are in the lighted windows you drive by at night, in the tiny lego block buildings you see from an airplane. We are sitting through classes, and watching hockey games, and reading textbooks. We are talking and eating and laughing. We are going through the normal steps of life, through everything we have always been doing. Through what we have been told we are supposed to be doing.
But, if you look closer, you will see the signs.
A tear forming in the corner of an eye, brushed away in a second. A song coming on, and that lost look that flashes across their face before they quickly glance away. A smile that never reaches the eyes.
Everywhere you look, you will see a broken heart.
Everywhere you go, you will feel it. It doesn't go away. It doesn't let up. Sometimes, if we're lucky, it numbs. But when it comes back, it's almost worse. It's crushing. It pushes into your heart, snaps it merclessly in half again and again. It knocks you to the ground over and over.

The important part, of being heart broken, is knowing how to get up again.
It's an art. It's hard to learn. When you've got, you've got it.
But if you see someone struggling to help themselves back up, do them the favour. Extend your hand. Pull them up again. Show them the blue skies. Show them the real smiles. Help them find their happiness again.