After the Love is Gone

Discovering the life you were building with someone isn’t actually happening, what do you do
after that? There is a kind of trauma that can come with breakups that nobody really talks about
or admits. For example, when a romantic relationship ends, you’re not only grieving a broken
heart. You’re grieving a future, grieving marriage conversations, life with children, uniting
families, the places you imagined going and the empire you thought you’d build together. You
may have spent years searching for love and finally believing you found the one. Then comes the
harsh reality that the love of your life is the lesson of your life. You go from strangers to lovers,
then somehow from lovers back to strangers. Now you have to learn how to exist in a world
where the person you once occupied space and time with is no longer part of your world. What do you do with all of that?

One of my favorite Earth, Wind & Fire songs is “After the Love Has Gone.” To me, it’s more
than a slow groove. If you really listen to the song, there is something deeply familiar about the
feeling behind it. The realization that somewhere along the way, something changed.The
honeymoon phase fades. The euphoria settles. Months become years. Sometimes people become
complacent. Sometimes they begin believing the grass is greener somewhere else. What once felt
like a living dream is now a memory. When that happens, you’re left trying to understand how
something that once felt so real became something you can only look back on. You’re left confused, nostalgic, hurt and sometimes resentful.

I’ve had my share of breakups. My last one was on New Year’s Day, specifically. It wasn’t my
first. My first was on Valentine’s Day. Something about experiencing heartbreak on days that are
meant to represent love, celebration, and new beginnings that stays with you. I remember that
New Year’s Day. I could feel my heart cracking with every breath, as though it were
disintegrating. I thought about everything I had tolerated. I thought about how long it took me to
muster the courage to finally say, “I love you,” back. After a while, I had to face a hard question:

Who am I now that the future I imagined isn’t happening?

Somewhere in the aftermath of that loss, I found another kind of love. God met me where I was,
when I felt I couldn’t get any lower. That love began teaching me how to redefine myself and
who I was becoming. A woman with wisdom, A woman with strength, A woman who could
move forward without pretending that what happened didn’t hurt. I gave myself permission to
live again. To find joy again.

Sometimes that joy was found in the smallest things: writing
prayers, experiencing nature, reading, creating, laughing, breathing, and realizing that I was still
here. I turned pain into purpose and misery into masterpieces. I understood that my heart is not a
revolving door. I am not someone you can spin the block on after kicking me to the curb.

I learned forgiveness can be freely given while access remains denied. That’s one of the greatest
lessons I’ve learned after the love was gone. Losing someone does not mean losing yourself.
Healing isn’t linear. Some days you feel strong. Other days a simple song, holiday, or memory
can take you right back to where you thought you had already healed. But the healing is worth it.
After the love is gone, you may spend a long time believing that the love itself is gone forever.
But it isn’t. Maybe the love you thought you needed from another person becomes the love you
learn to give yourself. The love you lost becomes the lesson that prepares you for the person
you’re becoming. What you thought was the end of your story was actually the beginning of
discovering yourself. Because sometimes, after the love is gone, you finally find your way back to you.

Written by: Danela Butler