It is what it is...

I never planned to put this out there. Neither did I plan to start writing now. But it is what it is… words have a way of finding me when my heart feels too heavy to stay silent. Maybe this is my way of breathing again.

Sometimes, I wonder why love, something so pure, so beautiful, has the power to hurt this much. They say love is supposed to heal, to bring peace, to make everything make sense. But sometimes, it does the opposite. Sometimes, it’s the very thing that breaks you in places you never knew could ache.

It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone can walk into your life so effortlessly, and suddenly, everything feels brighter. You begin to dream differently, laugh deeper, breathe easier. You find comfort in their voice, peace in their presence, and meaning in the tiniest things, a text, a smile, a memory.

And then one day, that same presence becomes a memory. The laughter turns into silence. The peace turns into longing. And your heart, that once danced freely, begins to ache in rhythms it can’t explain.

Love hurts because it changes you. It takes you apart and puts you back together, never quite the same. It makes you believe in forever, only to teach you that sometimes forever is just a moment that leaves a permanent mark. It hurts because it mattered. Because you gave, you trusted, you hoped. You saw something worth fighting for, and maybe, you still do.

The truth is, love doesn’t just live in the moments when it’s easy. It lingers in the silence after the calls stop coming. It breathes in the spaces between what was said and what was left unsaid. It stays in the ache of your chest when you scroll past a memory you’re not ready to delete.

But maybe… maybe love hurts this much because it was real. Because it touched the deepest parts of you, the ones that rarely see the light. Because it reminded you that you’re human, capable of feeling something so powerful it leaves traces long after it’s gone.

And though it hurts now, unbearably so, one day, this same heart will understand. One day, it’ll see that the pain was proof of depth, not weakness. That you were brave enough to love with everything in you, even when you didn’t know how it would end.

Love hurts. But it also transforms. It breaks you open, not to destroy you, but to teach you how to bloom again, softer, wiser, and even more capable of love.

So, if your heart aches tonight, let it. Cry if you must. Feel every bit of what your soul is screaming. Because this, too, is love, just a different shade of it.