Lovingheart

To Love, To Lose, To Heal is a poignant journey through love, heartbreak, and self-discovery. It follows a soul who loved deeply, lost painfully, and is now left to pick up the shattered pieces of a heart that once beat for another.

In a world where love is both salvation and destruction, the struggle with lingering emotions, haunting memories, and the weight of what could have been. Torn between holding on and letting go, between the past and an uncertain future, they must confront their pain, their fears, and the truth they’ve been avoiding, healing isn’t about forgetting; 

it’s about finding the strength to live again.

This novel is a raw, intimate exploration of love’s beautiful agony, the wounds it leaves behind, and the resilience it takes to rise again. To Love, To Lose, To Heal is for anyone who has ever loved too much, lost too deeply, and still found the courage to heal.

To love, To lose, To heal

I said I loved you despite all the warning signs, the danger flashing like red lights, the scars I hid beneath my smile, the fears I buried deep inside. But when I got closer, everything changed. I saw the way your eyes shone, the warmth they carried despite the world's coldness. I noticed your fingers, long, gentle, and steady, holding my hand like it was something precious. And in that moment, the weight I carried, the worries that clung to my soul, melted away.

One look into your eyes made me believe in something I had long forgotten, that tomorrow could be better, that happiness wasn't just a fleeting illusion. So, I made a silent promise to myself: to hold onto you, to love you, to stay.

But loving is hard. Harder than I ever imagined. Because with each passing day, I find it more difficult to leave you, more painful to be apart from you. I told myself I only needed a month to understand the kind of love you had to offer, to test if my heart could handle it. But the truth broke me in ways I wasn't prepared for.

Your love was real. Sincere. So pure, it terrified me.

It wasn't just love, it was something more. It was calming, wrapping around me like a safe embrace. It was spoiling, filling the empty spaces I had convinced myself didn't need to be filled. It was romantic, not just in words but in the way you looked at me, in the way you listened, in the way you made me feel like I was worth loving. It was caring, unselfish, patient. It never judged me for my past, my fears, or my hesitation.

It was the kind of love people dream of. The kind I had once dreamed of too.

Running from the very thing I had always wanted, the love I had secretly longed for. I ran because it felt too good to be true, because I had spent so long expecting disappointment that I didn't know how to accept something real.

But you, you never stopped chasing me. You never stopped loving me. With the same unwavering, patient love, you kept reaching for me.

So why am I still too afraid to hold on? Why does love, something so beautiful, something so true, feel like the one thing I don't deserve?