Raw.Real.Recovered.

Lord, help me.

I never knew you could hurt like this.

No one warns you that love—real, soul-stretching, heart-wide-open love—comes with a shadow. A cost. A kind of pain that doesn’t show up in romantic movies or late-night advice columns. This isn’t heartbreak like in the songs. This is something deeper. A grief that wraps around your ribs and won’t let you breathe right.

I won’t sit here and say that loving someone fully is a mistake. Because it’s not. Loving someone with everything in you is never a mistake. 

It’s unbearable.

It’s holy.

It’s brutal.

There’s this moment—this split second—when you realize the person you love might be better off without you.  

And then what? You sit in the stillness. The silence after the storm. You replay the laughter, the softness, the everything. And you cry. Ugly, soul-wrecking tears. Until you physically cause yourself to vomit .The kind that makes you whisper, “Lord, I don’t know how to survive this.”

Because you don’t know. There’s no guidebook for this kind of goodbye.

But here’s what I’ve learned in the ache:

Love like that doesn’t leave you. 

Love like that changes you. It shows you what you’re capable of.

And heartbreak like this? It cracks you wide open so God can reach the places you kept locked away.

So if you’re here too—in this hollow, grieving, God-I’m-not-okay space—just know you’re not alone. Cry the tears. Whisper the prayers. Let yourself feel all of it.

And know that love, even when it ends, was never wasted.

It taught you.

It shaped you.

It mattered.

And maybe, just maybe, someday the pain will feel a little less like suffocating and a little more like surviving.

Until then—

Lord, help me.

Because I’ve never hurt this bad.

But I’m still here.

Still breathing.