Love Is Brutal, and the Reminders Are Never Convenient

I’m live tweeting my flight right now to New York City. It’s Friday, September 12th, and I’m on the way to take my little sister on her official visit for volleyball @ university #neposister.

Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a while. Thursday gave me hope. My fall motto has been divas up 1000, because truly, divas have been up. I just hosted the very first event for In Between Sundays, something God placed on my heart. I was terrified to do it because I didn’t think anyone would show up. But people did. And it felt right. I feel confident in my path to law school. I’ve found friendship in someone I never imagined would matter this much.

Everything was aligning. Until it wasn’t.

Somewhere over the clouds, reading Meet Me at the Lake by Carley Fortune, it hit me like a ton of bricks. The memory of him. The man I’ve been trying to forget, not in a bitter way, but in the way you try to bury something too heavy to carry.

The love was deep. Consuming. A hurt wrapped in betrayal, yet softened by the fact that I loved him too much to hold on to the pain. For so long, I could talk about him without missing him. I could reflect without longing. But suddenly, there I was, remembering the comfort of his presence, how little I had to say for him to understand me.

Why does it feel like this? Why do I wish I could just call him, ask about his day, or read my book aloud to him, even though, truthfully, he probably would have been annoyed? And then reality sets in. Because he never cared. That is the cycle. The romance in my head followed by the crash of truth.

And the truth is this: I was a burden. The love I romanticized was never reciprocated.

So if he ever stumbles across this, maybe he will cringe that I would share something so raw online. But I could care less what people thought of me online. Writing helps me.

And maybe it will help you too.

If you are in the thick of heartbreak, hear me. You are not alone. Yes, there will be moments when your heart insists it makes sense to call, to ask, what happened to us? But remember this. The Lord knew you before you were formed in the womb. He knows your heart, what makes you feel seen, and what makes you feel loved. He designed you to receive love, and He also designed someone who is capable of giving it. You will find them.

Stay the course. Love yourself. Take your vitamins. Work out. Read your Bible. Weep to the Lord. And one day, the emotions that once hit you like a ton of bricks, the ones that turned your life from color to grey, will not hold the same power…

It is now Monday; I am no longer live tweeting my spiral. And I just learned new information about that relationship, something I did not know before. The truth makes me even more disgusted, not only at what happened but at how blind I was to it all. What I once thought of as love looks even emptier now. It could have never worked, and the thought that I wanted it to is painful to admit.

But here is the thing. God has a way of revealing truth in His time. He lets us sit with the ache long enough to feel it, then uncovers details that remind us exactly why we were delivered. It is a lesson in patience. If you wait and do not react on emotion, the truth will rise to the surface.

It reminds me of when Jesus washed Peter’s feet. The meaning was not clear in the moment, but it was revealed later. That is how God works in heartbreak too.

Love is brutal. The reminders are never convenient. But healing is holy, and clarity is worth the wait.

xoxo,

Sake