It was pitch black but for the faint light of glow-in-the-dark stickers above my bed.
Why am I in Jon’s bed?
I shouldn’t have been at my parents’ house in my youngest brother’s empty bed. My head felt fuzzy and my mouth dry. I groaned as the memory of the previous night came crashing in like a tidal wave. My body ached.
So this is what a broken heart feels like, I thought. No wonder people die from this.
I had taken on the role of girlfriend for the first time five months earlier; now I woke to a new identity. I had become ex-girlfriend.
That night was the darkest of my life thus far. Had I realized what I was fading into, I probably wouldn’t have gotten out of bed that next day. Or the next. I found myself living in a new reality, and I had no idea what to do, how to move forward. The old version of myself had been replaced with a new version, and I didn’t know how to go back.
Pointing Back to Jesus
At some level, I realized that people had been living with heartbreaks, breakups, and rejection since the beginning of time. But I hadn’t. I felt lost and afraid. People offered good wishes and advice, but they couldn’t penetrate the shell of numbness surrounding my shattered heart. I started to look for anything that would make sense of my new world, and what I found was shockingly sparse.
Sure, the Internet was full of articles and books on how to get back at him or how to mend a broken heart, and top-ten lists of coping mechanisms. But I couldn’t find anything that pointed me back to Jesus. I couldn’t find anything that helped me as a Christian woman wrestle through my sense of forgiveness and anger and betrayal and loss of hope in a dating relationship.1