It is the fact that behind every true Artist’s soul lies a broken heart. Which personally, is what I think is the best thing that can happen to a person. I wouldn’t inflict such pain upon my worst enemy, who in my humble opinion jumped up from the darkest depths of hell to torture me. But once it has happened and you are endowed with enough logic to conclude that it is better to feel good than feel bad, the Artist understands the clandestine truth.
It was never the Love that broke your heart. Love cannot be broken. Love never fails.The heart breaks because Expectations are broken. Expectations that another free, independent, loving human being didn’t want to be possessed. Owned. Controlled. Pressured into behaving the way you wanted them to behave. Love is liberating, not possessing.
But they changed and so did you. And you shed a bitter tear. Not because they left, but because you remembered how good it felt at the start. When anything they did made you smile. And the Artist realised that the only time you could ever feel that good again was when you escape into your Art.