Love is Never Wasted
This idea that love is never wasted was inspired by my own journey of losing people in my life - friends, romantic relationships, family. When we lose someone—whether through death, distance, or a painful falling out—a piece of our heart seems to leave with them. It’s as if a shard of our spirit stays forever tethered to that person. But that doesn't mean our heart becomes less whole. When we allow our heart to break open, not just break apart, we create more room: for love to pour out, and for love to be received again.
One of my favorite songs is La Vie en Rose, which means “Life in Pink”—or, more poetically, seeing life through rose-colored glasses. It reminds me that there’s power in choosing to see beauty even in sadness, in finding tenderness amid grief.
Let your heart break. Let it break open.
Even if the person you loved hurt you… it’s never wasted.
It’s easy to see things in black and white when we’re heartbroken. We want to simplify the pain—label them as bad, the relationship as a mistake. But life isn’t binary. What if we made space for both truths to coexist? Maybe someone hurt you deeply and you still loved them. There were beautiful moments and difficult ones. Both can be true.
What if grief repeats itself not to punish us—but to soften us? To humanize us? What if grief is sacred training for compassion?
Sometimes, even those who have hurt us leave behind something of value: a lesson, a memory, a mirror. Maybe the partner who betrayed your trust cleared the way for someone who could hold it gently. Maybe the friend who abandoned you showed you what loyalty truly means. Maybe you lost someone to be reminded that nothing and no one is ours to possess forever.
Pain might be the way we learn what we truly cherish. And perhaps, it’s the way we learn to extend grace—to ourselves, and to others.
The next time someone’s name stirs hurt in your chest, imagine them as a child. Wounded. Tender. Maybe facing things no child ever should. Because hurt people, hurt people. And when you feel your own anger rise, let it out in healthy ways, yes—but then gently look beneath it. You’ll often find sadness there. A sorrow that something broke. A mourning for something once meaningful.
Imagine your younger self meeting theirs. Maybe you sit beside each other, play a game of hopscotch, share a hug. You release each other from the weight of the past. Not to excuse their behavior. Not to invite them back in. But to set yourself free—with love, softness, and compassion.
Because the alternative is to carry both your pain and their shadow. And that’s too heavy a burden for anyone to bear.
I believe you can let someone go lovingly, even if it breaks your heart. Sometimes the hardest path is the most aligned one. That doesn’t make it easy—but it might make it right.
When grief comes back in waves—and it will—place your hand over your heart. Close your eyes. Take a breath. Offer the sadness as a prayer—for your healing, and theirs.
When you think of the good times, meet them with gratitude. Let yourself hope that you’ll meet again in a place where only the goodness remains.
Grief is the price we pay for love.
And love, no matter how it ends, is never wasted.
It always finds its way back to us, in one way or another.
About Brooke’s Babbles
Brooke’s Babbles is a podcast and blog where storytelling meets soul. Hosted by marketing consultant and professional babbler Brooke, Brooke’s Babbles offers honest conversations, insightful tips, and real life stories. Whether you're here for storytelling, connection, mindset shifts, or a dose of inspiration, you’re in the right place.
