And I cried. For
what seemed like hours, curled up in the fetal position on my bed, I cried. The tears burned down my cheeks and I could hear the angry beating of my pulse through my temples.
What should have happened two months ago happened
tonight. And all too late I realized avoiding
it only made this inevitable pain worse.
I looked into his light brown eyes tonight, and, for a
second, he cradled me. My head met that
warm space in his chest. So familiar,
and yet so unforgiving.
To love someone so much, to not have it be right…hurts.
It hurts. Present tense. Where I thought I was doing okay and had
moved on, really I just hadn’t allowed myself to feel the pain. This searing, almost electrical pain.
I miss him. I miss
all we were and all that was…even though I know what he said is true. It wasn’t right.
As he handed me my key, I felt my heart completely
surrender to the pain. I held the small
piece of metal delicately then, as if it were instead made of glass. As if breaking it would reflect the last
piece of my already broken heart.
My tears continued to fall after his departure, my
thoughts swirling. And I cried even
harder, realizing what it was to have loved someone who loved me. My pain didn’t come from him betraying me or
hurting me like other breakups. It
simply came from having to accept the truth.
Two good people with two good hearts who weren’t meant to be.
And so, I’ll remember when we were meant to be, if only
for a season—when God brought us together.
I’ll remember loving him, and what it felt like to have his love. The summer nights where his lips met mine,
the slow dances in his arms, conversations about life on the small balcony of
my apartment, the warm night together in the starlit ocean, and standing in the
rain, letting it soak us and feeling more joy—more freedom—in that one singular
moment than I had ever felt.
I thank God for letting me experience that love and for
the respect he showed me tonight. I pray
that God pulls me through this pain. I
pray that He changes my heart. I pray
selfishly that this pain won’t last longer than it needs to. I pray for both of us that God may make us
both stronger and bring us closer to Him in ways we never expected from the
ending of this chapter. I pray for him
to keep growing, and to one day find love with someone who brings out the best
in him, who can push him towards Christ, and who loves him so deeply. I pray that the issues that tore us apart
will not be forgotten, so we may grow from them, and that the good parts—the parts
worth remembering—are used to push us to fight for love in our future romances. A part of my heart will always belong to him.
