My first taste of heartbreak, that sharp piercing that stabs right into the softest part of your soul. I've finished reading Hans Christian Anderson's (children) version of The Little Mermaid (it's worlds apart from the sunny Disney version), and the image of the little mermaid weeping by the rocks in all agony while taking a last look at her prince, lingered on in my mind. How she had to say goodbye after she've given her all and sacrificed so much, that exquisite sadness. Sorrow at its deepest, so achingly and hauntingly beautiful, yet heartwrenching.

I think i was nine years old. From that moment, i've suspected that my heart hasn't been whole.

Right now, looking back, I know it's true.

The second time my heart broke was during the last day of primary school. My friend and I was walking home together, and she told me that she was moving away. No longer would i have her in the block next to mine, and after six years together in the same school, everybody would be going their seperate ways to different secondary schools. Suddenly that hit me hard, there was a ripping pain and the ache in my chest stayed for a long time.

I've lost count of the number of times I've been left heartbroken since then, countless nights of sharing my tears with the pillow. The older i grow, the more vulnerable i've become. But life is not without its healing touch, in the laughter of loved ones, the kind words of a friend and the beauty of music. I do know that the heart can swell although its aching and still be whole even if it's broken.