For those who found love after their heart was broken?

I had my heart broken recently by someone who I thoght was comitted, he cheated. Is it true when they say that guys don’t realize when they had a good woman until they lost them? Have anyone expereince this,share your experience. Becuz I’m feeling that he found his true love but he also said that I was his true love. I need to feel that I will find the one for me. Is it also true that when someone breaks someone’se heart, they will not find happiness until they realize what they lost beforehand and for those whose hearts were broken – are the ones that have everlasting love?

to those who heart is hurt?

I sit, joking
a girl points out my fingers are shaking.
I move
and cut
old photographs in shapes.

I tell the story to a boy next to me.
We laugh in dumbfounded awe.
I’m glad he doesn’t understand either.

Later I leave to relieve my churning bladder.
Later I come back, and even later, she’s angry I left.
Then her words are rain to ashes.
I have no fire to be doused, no feelings to smother.

All the while, still, amongst my calamity
my sympathetic nervous system runs without exhaustion
from the minds tigers.
Neurotransmitters fire unrelenting at my pleas for peace.

My hands still shake and now my mouth trembles
for fear of letting heart and mind spill forward
in a stew of murky muddy suppression.

I feel even that these thoughts are not my thoughts;
these feelings are not my feelings.
I wish they would leave me be.
But they cling,
then fade,
then spring back with double terror.
My words are as complacent as possible.
She screams terror, fear, and stress in her usual speaking voice.
No one knows she’s screaming but me.

Her breaths are short.
I can see her heartbeat
quicken, erratic,
beneath her bony chest.

I feel her stress,
I feel her anxieties;
She passes them unknowingly on me.
She accuses me, and maybe I was the spark she was looking for
but she is long suppressed.

I wish her true anxieties, fears, and depressions would come pouring out,
even all on me
so that she could be free again.

Now her ways are vampiric;
she sucks passion, love, and peace from all that bring them.

When she laughs she looks twenty again.
it seems almost that her fetters break
and her stones fly from her pit.
She is light again.
I wonder why the stones come back.

The meeting is over
but nothing has resolved.
It’s fake; policies. Authority.

If she let herself scream at me,
if she let me scream at her,
if she let us cry….
We’d be light.
What is authority when it only divides living beings?

We leave.
I am free, but I think she’s not.
I wish I could explain;
I wish I could teach her.
But she is the teach-er
I am not to explain.
I wish I could soothe her pain,
but I am to stay silent, subservient.

The meeting is over, but she only has more stones now.
Her anxieties are my anxieties, her pain is my pain.

I see Devi* in her.
I see Devi in me.
I see us, together, in Devi.

Mother loves all Her children unconditionally.
Why should they fight and proclaim power over each other?

I wish she knew she was Devi.
Then she would be free.
I wish I could tell her.
I think someday Mother will tell her.
*Devi is the Divine Mother. She birthed the universe, she birthed us, and she sustains us every day. Devi is the force of emotion, creativity, wisdom, and love. Devi is the absolute.

Book about a small boy whose heart outgrew his body and his friend who was overly large?

When i was in middle school i read this book about this kid who had a condition.
This condition made him to small and weak. By the end of the book his heart was too big for his body or something like that.
He had a best friend who had the opposite problem he was too big.

This is all i can recall about the book but i remember it being very moving so i was hoping to find it again. Can anyone help, please?