A love I lost

We pour our souls into love only to lose it in the end. Some people are lucky enough to find genuine and real love; sadly, I am not one of them. I find love only to lose it. I found him and lost him. I loved him, then hated him. He made me happy. I thought I was the luckiest woman to have him in my life. I thought he was a gift from God. My joy turned into pain. He disappointed me and broke my heart over and over again until I stopped loving him. My happiness came to an end. We broke up eventually. We both stopped fighting for the love we had. Our love was not enough to keep us together.

We grew apart. We fell out of love. The love was gone, but the heartache remained. We missed the memories we shared, the plans we made, and the future we never got to live out together. We missed the perfect love we thought we had I lost him and craved to have him back again. Our love was sweet; we were happy. He was my first love, my boyfriend. Four years in a relationship felt like a lifetime. I honestly thought he was the one for me, but he wasn’t. As a woman I had so much to learn about love and heartbreak. I am still young, only twenty‑two years old. I have my whole life ahead of me.

Sometimes we are only meant to find love for a season. Our season for love ended, and we had to say goodbye to the love we once had. I remember the joy in the hello when I met him, and the sadness in my heart the day he left my life. Break‑ups are ugly, but the beginning was beautiful. The joy when we first found love, the butterflies in my stomach, our first magical kiss. The nights we sat on the rooftop of my house under the starlight talking until dawn. The I love you morning texts, the phone calls telling me he missed me. Oh, how in love we were. A love we thought was unbreakable came to an end. Sometimes in life there is no guarantee that the love we find will last forever. Sometimes the person you think is your soulmate turns out to be just another man who is not your forever life partner.

I accept that our love is over and I closed that old chapter. Our love story didn’t have a happy ending. I lost him and found myself. I learned to love the parts of me I had neglected. I did some soul‑searching and fell in love with myself all over again. I found self‑love. I became a better and happier version of myself. I was happy and complete. I found the parts of me I had lost along the way. But still, I lacked something in my life. I knew something was missing: love.

One night I prayed to God and said, “God, not my will but Yours. Please give me the man who You think is meant for me.” I lived my life, went on dates, had guy friends I liked romantically, but none of them were suitable. None of them were meant for me. I stopped trying to find love on my own. I focused on myself—then one day, a year later, something happened.

My high school friend Peter, who had left town to join the army, returned. He was back in town and living the life he always wanted. We had been best friends in our teenage years, but we lost contact. Two years passed. I was still single but successful, yet I still felt incomplete. I was a model and thought my success would make me happy or complete me in some way. One day Peter came to my house and left a pile of letters on my doorstep. When I returned from work that evening, I found them. They were letters he had written over the years but never had the courage to send. I read all of them. It turned out he had a crush on me when we were young and never forgot our friendship. The letters were sweet and beautiful. I knew I had to see him again. Luckily, he had left his phone number in one of the letters. I called Peter, and we met up and caught up on life, talking for hours. The connection we had as teenagers was still there; we never lost the spark or the bond. Months passed, and we saw each other almost every day. We became good friends again.

Then one night Peter asked me out on a date and took me to a romantic candlelight dinner. Our first date was magical. We shared our first kiss and fell in love during those months together. But Peter told me he had to leave again—the army was stationing him in France. I was heartbroken. I had just found him again, only to lose him. I feared he might never return. I feared war. But I vowed to pray for him because he was my friend. He left a week later, and at first he kept in contact, but soon the letters and messages stopped. I assumed he was too busy with his life as a soldier. I moved on but continued praying for him.

A year later, I met a new man, Alexander. He was sweet and seemed perfect. We dated for six months, fell in love, got engaged, and I thought I had finally found the man I had prayed for. I was wrong. He had been cheating on me from the start. I left him. I was heartbroken but relieved. I knew I deserved better. I was tired of trying to find love. I remembered my prayer to God for my soulmate, so I took a break from dating. I joined a church near my house and went every Sunday. I connected with God. I was happy and at peace. Although I longed for love, I stopped dating and focused on myself and my relationship with God. For the first time, I was happy as a single woman.

Then I received a call from Peter’s mother. Peter was back home in critical condition in the hospital. I went with her to the hospital. He was in a coma. It was painful to see him like that. The army didn’t think he would survive and discharged him. I prayed with his mother every day. Two years passed, and he was still in a coma. His mother lost hope, but I continued praying. Then one day, the doctor called and said Peter moved his hand—a sign of recovery. A month later, Peter woke up. I thanked God for His mercy. I visited him every day until he was discharged. He made a full recovery.

I supported him through therapy for trauma from the war. Our friendship grew stronger. He thanked me for being there.Months passed, and Peter got back on his feet. He got a job at a bank and studied music engineering. I even took him to church with me. I thought Peter was the man God chose for me. I was wrong. Peter met a woman at work and started dating her. I was heartbroken again. He cut me out of his life completely and eventually married her.

I stopped believing in love. I thought maybe love wasn’t meant for someone like me. I focused on work, became a celebrity, a supermodel featured in top magazines. Men wanted me for the wrong reasons, so I avoided them. I moved to a small town in Italy where no one knew me. I stopped modelling and became a writer. The celebrity life was overwhelming. I escaped the spotlight and found a new church. I connected with God again.

I learned valuable lessons from the love I thought I lost. I realised I deserved better. My life became God‑centred. I volunteered in hospitals and children’s homes. I opened a bookstore and wrote motivational novels. Five years passed. I was forty and still single. I missed being in a romantic relationship but was content.

I became friends with the pastor of the church I joined in Italy. I didn’t know he saw me in a romantic way. He had also been praying for the right woman. One Saturday, he invited me for tea and Bible study. Afterward, he asked, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” I was surprised, but I remembered my prayer and said yes. We dated, fell in love, and married a year later. Nine months after that, we had a son. My life was finally complete. Being a wife and mother was a blessing. I became a Sunday school teacher. I married the man who truly loved me for who I am.

God answered my prayers. I found my soulmate when I least expected it, when I had closed my heart to love. I learned that love finds us in its own time. I found my happy ending and lived the life I always wanted.

We lose in love, and we win too—for every time we take a chance on love, we gain wisdom.