I haven’t written in a while. It is hard to write when your heart is so heavy, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve started a story on here and I owe people a conclusion.
Things had seemed to be going so much better for the last month, but I was being fooled, yet again. Satan landed the fatal blow on my relationship this week, and as I type this, my heart is well and truly broken completely.
Most people in the world have experienced some sort of heart-break, and I know I’m not writing about something unique. But sitting here, with an inventory of all the dreams I had harbored about the future that included Chef, knowing full well that those dreams won’t be coming true, it is hard not to feel like the only soul left in the whole world. It is hard to be so centered around another human for 21 years only to have that rug pulled out from beneath you. Now, everywhere that I look, there seems to be a painful reminder that this chapter is over. In fact, the whole book is finished, and now it seems I need to begin writing a new one. I just flat don’t feel excited about a new life. There is a lot of grief in giving up this relationship.
I’m refusing to allow myself to become bitter, though it would be easy to hate him right now. But bitterness is a bad seed, and it infects not only the person that has justifiable reasons to be bitter, but everyone in their life as well. Instead, I’m trying to praise the Lord through my tears, knowing that He is collecting these tokens of my pain in a jar in heaven. No, satan. I am not angry at God, nor will I curse Him…ever. Instead, I’m praying that God mercifully grant me some comfort. He has already answered some prayers about my finances, as Chef left me with a mountain of financial problems right now. A very good friend I met on here who is going through something similar has been a very compassionate ear for me to cry into to. I do so appreciate you, Victoria.
Every time I cry out, Jesus is there to lend me hand, helping me to cope with the grief of a torn soul. But, as with any other wounds, it takes time to heal, and now I just need to make it through each day, second by second, until the pain eases to a manageable level. Why does time always drip by so slowly when we feel like this? It seems kind of cruel to me.
I just ask that you all pray for me. I feel lonely, sad, hurt, betrayed, and afraid. Talk to me, sisters and brothers.