God,

I wanted so badly to believe that what we had was real. I wanted to believe that the depth, the intensity, the shared dream, was rooted. I wanted to believe that I meant something. But I see it more clearly now, and it stings in a way I almost can’t express. 

They loved the attention, not me.

They loved being needed. They loved having someone to text back. They loved being admired, being pursued, being desired. They never stayed for me. They never actually chose me. It was the feeling of being wanted that kept them around, it was never about the heart I offered so openly to them, it was never about the love I was so willing to give. 

God, I know I should be grateful for this clarity, but right now it just feels like grief. Grief for what I thought I was building with someone. Grief for the moments I thought were mutual and anchored. Grief for the vulnerability I poured into them, thinking I was safe. I feel so foolish. I feel discarded. I feel like my heart was just a mirror they looked into to mend themselves, not a place they ever intended to stay.

I need you right now, God. Meet me in my bruised hope. Meet me in the pain that tries to convince me that I was only lovable for what I could offer, not for who I am. Remind me that this isn’t the full story. Remind me that being used doesn’t mean I am disposable, that being left behind doesn’t mean I am unworthy of something tender and kind. Remind me that someone’s inability to love me well doesn’t erase the fact that I am still deeply, wholly, and unconditionally loved by you.

Help me to release the bitterness in my heart before it takes root, God. Help me to resist the urge to harden my sensitivity, to promise myself I’ll never care like that again. I don’t want to become closed off, God. I don’t want to build walls around myself that keep love from finding its way into my life. I want to heal. I want to grow. I want to believe that real love still exists. I want to trust in the kind of connection that stays, the kind of connection that endures, the kind of connection that chooses me — not because it feels good in the moment, but because it’s built within something deeper, something light.

Thank you for showing me the truth even though it hurts, God. Thank you for sparing me from building my world around something that was never real. Thank you for reminding me that attention is not the same as affection, and that infatuation is not the same as love.

Until the right love finds me, until the love that mirrors your own crashes into my life — help me to be gentle with myself, God. Help me to stay tender. Help me to remember that even this heartbreak is shaping me into someone stronger, someone kinder, someone still capable of choosing love again, and again, without fear, despite it all. 

Amen.