I had my heart broken over the phone. 

I had my heart broken in the sense that I told him how I felt, but he already had someone who he cared about. 

When he told me, I felt like my body was tilting sideways, I felt like I was falling into a void. I wish that I had fell into a void. It would have been easier for the both of us in that moment. 

But, even when I had my heart broken, something else broke along with it. 

A barrier.

A wall. 

Whatever you would like to call it, my sudden confession to him gave us the opportunity to talk about so much more. 

We talked about our deepest problems and fears. We listened intently to each other. We tried our best to understand each other’s thoughts.  We laughed half-heartedly. We cried. But most of all, during this four-hour phone call, we connected.  We connected in a unique and special way.   He told me things that I had never heard from anybody before, and I told him things that he had never heard from anybody else. 

Through this connection, a trust, a friendship, and a new sense of hope was built.

So, I did have my heart broken over the phone.

But the very same person mended my broken heart and helped me move on. 

This doesn’t necessarily mean that things carried on like a normal day. There were a few tears shed on my part, and there were greetings that were ignored on his part.  I’m not worried, bitter, or ashamed about any of this at all.

Time cools all jets.

Things will work out. 

I have hope.