Beauty Out of Heartbreak

I am going to tell you a story.

A few years ago, I met someone.  We - from my perspective - really hit it off.  But the relationship was strictly professional, and while I flirted in my own way (i.e. not obvious at all), no action was taken on either side.

I was infatuated with him.  I thought about him every day.  Meeting him had changed me to what felt like a radical degree.  Whereas before I met him, I played it cautious, I wasn't spontaneous, I didn't care about being in a relationship with anyone.  But after I met him, I would go drive for the sake of driving.  I went skydiving.  I went hiking and adventuring alone.  Mostly done for bragging rights to have something to tell him when we saw each other, but also because he made me feel wild and reckless.

He was also the first person in my life where I could picture myself settling down.  Being committed.  Starting a family.

It took me years to admit this, but yes: I was in love with him.


As I said though...nothing ever came from what I felt.

Instead, I secretly pined for him.  Hoped against hope I would run into him around town, outside of the workplace.  That he would see me on social media and suddenly want to get to know me more.

It never happened.
He didn't know how I felt until, a few weeks before I moved hundreds of miles away, I told him something along the lines of how I wouldn't have minded if something had happened between us.  But at this point, he had a girlfriend for several months and was pretty committed to her.  I wasn't trying to break them up, but rather create some closure for myself.


I left with a broken heart.


Even though I was hundreds of miles away, I still thought of him.  I was unhealthily obsessive in checking social media to see if he posted something, or to see if he "liked" anything I had posted to my account.  I kept hoping against hope that maybe something would happen, and he would realise that we were "meant" to be (even though I readily admit, there is no such thing).

One day, he posted to his social media account (which wasn't very often at all).  He had proposed to his girlfriend.  They were engaged.  I saw this on my lunch break at work, and my heart sank.  That was it.  Game over.

I drove to my other job after I got off work, and met up with a man I had been spending time with.  He left me for a few minutes to go get coffee, and when he came back, he saw the tears I had meant to conceal, and insisted in his caring way that I tell him what was wrong.  What had happened.  So I shared a brief recap of everything.


Fast forward a few weeks.

This man I has been spending more and more time with became my boyfriend.  I was still nursing the wound of a broken heart, but this man knew that.  He cared for me.  He wanted to be alongside me in my road to getting better, both emotionally and in regards to my mental health.

Over time, we grew to love each other.  We quickly became best friends, not just boyfriend and girlfriend.  We went on adventures.  We admired the beauty of nature together.  We fought.  We reconciled.  We learned to adapt with each other.  We fought to keep our relationship strong.


And now?

Here we are.

Living thousands of miles away from where we first met.  Married.  Happy.  Working on strengthening our marriage, on growing closer, on changing (for the better).  Fighting for our marriage.


This morning I thought about the other man I was in love with.  I imagined what it would be like to be married to him.  And you know what?  I couldn't see it.  That is to say, I could see it, but it was a dead end.  It would have amounted to nothing.

Because nothing can compare to the man I married.  The man I am committed to for life.  The man who is my best friend, who is the love of my life, the man I cannot wait to start a family with.

This man has the biggest and kindest heart of anyone I know.  He loves me unconditionally.  He is humble, willing to admit when he's wrong, and willing to change for the better.  He knows the struggles I face and instead of telling me to look him up when I've figured it out, he has embraced walking by my side, supporting me, holding me up through the storms, and helping me walk a path towards getting better.  He is walking alongside me as we both figure out what a relationship with God looks like, and how we should be living.  He takes care of me, he cares for me, and he loves me.  Period.
There is absolutely no match for that.  There is no match for the man that he is.  For all that we've been through and fought through.  I cannot see myself with anyone else.  I do not want to be with anyone else.  If soulmates were really a thing, he would be mine.  I have chosen him, and will continue to choose him every day of my life.  I have loved him with all my heart, and will continue to love him as fiercely and as strongly as I am capable of.


There is beauty that comes after heartbreak.
It may take a while.
It may take years.

It's not worth it to go around and try to fill the cracks of your shattered heart with other relationships.  Or other ephemeral things.  Rather, in the meantime, be content with being alone.  Try to find out who you are.  In this way, you can help the person who will eventually come along, get to know you as well as you know yourself.

There is a difference between being alone and being lonely.
Don't be afraid to be alone.

A broken heart is a struggle.
It is pain and sorrow and sickness and unrest.
But give it time.
Give yourself a little grace.
Be patient.
Wait.


It's worth it.