helping_handMany years ago, after a devastating divorce, I thought I had finally reached my limit to my quota of happiness.  I swore I was through with dating, relationships and men, and was content to live out the rest of my life alone.

I didn’t like it, but I was able to accept it.  After all, I had wonderful children, supportive family, a nice little writing gig to keep my mind busy, and of course, my friends.

The pain had been excruciating, so deep and so violent, the likes of which I had never experienced.   It was as if he had physically reached into my chest and tore my heart out with his bare hand.  Out of the blue I would cry, the sight of a familiar place or a memory jostled reduced me to a muddy puddle.  Sometimes I couldn’t breathe, and I thought I might be losing my mind.

I swore I would never subject myself to that pain again.

Shortly after writing about my revelations, a woman that I did not know left a comment on my Facebook page.  She had, like me, been through the wringer with wrong relationships, had been left by some, and had left others.

“But don’t give up!” she wrote.  “Someday the man you are supposed to be with will be right under your nose.  You will probably try to fight it, but it will be inevitable.  It will come when you don’t expect it, and you won’t recognize him at first.  I have finally found my true love after so, so many heartbreaks, and I would not have met him if I hadn’t looked up.  Keep looking up, girl.  Keep looking up.”

I thought she was just another misguided romantic like myself, and that sooner or later her heart would be broken again.   I never responded to her.

I deleted the comment.  It was just too hard to hope or imagine that it could happen to me.

Until I looked up.

And there he was, just like she said.

I never got her name, but how I wish I had.

I would tell her she was right.

I would tell her everything she said was true.

I would tell her how much I wanted to say thank you.  Thank you for reaching out to a complete stranger to give words of comfort and encouragement, positive energy, and a deliberate sense of purpose.

She changed my outlook; she changed my life.

Perhaps I am meant to write these words so that someone else who is struggling will read them and not give up either.

He wasn’t my first love, but he is my last.

Keep looking up.