The Kind of Love That Shapes You

I watched Forever on Netflix this past week, inspired by Judy Blume’s book. This is the excerpt from Netflix: “Reunited as teens, two childhood friends fall deeply in love, experiencing the joy and heartache of a first romance that will change their lives forever.”

I decided to give it a whirl and watch it while I worked on my laptop on the couch. Little did I know how much the show would affect me and truly bring up so many feelings. I’m not talking about little feelings either—I’m talking deep, heart-wrenching, hit-you-in-the-gut feelings.

If you haven’t watched the show, I will briefly explain how it affected me. It’s about two young teens in their junior and senior years of high school navigating their relationship, some challenging situations that come up, being off and on again (because relationships at that age—really any age—are complex), pushing each other to be better and go after their dreams, and then making the hard decision to break up before going off to college.

It wrecked me and made me reflect on my first relationship with my boyfriend, Austin. We started dating when I was 17 and he was 16, and it was like in the show, where they instantly clicked and had this connection. I guess sometimes, too, when you’re that age and your hormones are a little all over the place, it’s easy to dive right in and have intense feelings for someone, especially since our brains are still developing and trying to figure out all the things.

The show had me remembering and reflecting on so many things that Austin and I walked through as a young couple. The ups and downs of: Is this really a serious relationship? Can I trust this person? If I’m vulnerable with this person, will they still want to be with me—even if I show them this part of me? How can I live without this person? And so many more questions.

The show did a great job showcasing how hard it is to figure out relationships, schooling, and the future at a young age, and take care of yourself before putting someone else above you. I struggled with that in my early years of dating, and I felt insane sometimes, too, trying to understand why I attached the way I did to Austin. But we all have a desire to be loved. However, I’ve now learned I must be fully engulfed in God’s love because no other love will even amount to His. 

The one thing that stuck out to me toward the end of the show was the relationship between the two teens and how they were constantly pushing each other to be the best version of themselves—to go after what each of them wanted, not to let other people’s opinions get in the way, and to be courageous in what they felt called to do. I felt like Austin and I did that for each other, in many different ways and versions, throughout our short six on-and-off years together.

I went back last night to look over some texts I had screenshotted from 2013, when we first started dating, and it was just unbelievable to read some of the things we said to each other. For the most part, I have what he said to me lol. It’s hard not to attach to the words someone speaks to us, especially when we’re young and our brains aren’t fully developed.

One of his texts when we first started dating said this:
“We all make mistakes in life, but if you really love someone, you look past all the mistakes and just love them even more. You have been one of the best friends and best girlfriends I’ve ever had. You’ve changed my life. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you, with all my heart.”

Fast forward to his letter five years later, which he typed before taking his own life. He wrote to me:
“To Brooke, You’re the love of my life and I’m sorry we won’t be able to spend forever together.”

Seeing these two statements, he said, really takes my heart out of my chest and twists it until I can’t seem to breathe. When he typed that first text in 2013, I know he didn’t think about—or could’ve ever guessed—that he would type those words five years later before taking his own life. It makes me sick.

Last night, when I was crying, I said, “I’m so mad at you…” but then I was like, “I’m not mad, I’m just frustrated and sad that I couldn’t help you.” Oftentimes, when I think I’m mad about what happened, I’m just in anguish—we don’t use that word very often. Anguish means deep emotional pain, often a mix of sadness and distress.

That’s genuinely what I feel when I think of Austin and his decision to take his own life, because he was in such severe pain that he didn’t know any other way out.

I get it. As I felt the tears stream down my face and the pain in my chest while I let out deep cries, I said to God, “Why does it hurt this much? This pain—you don’t even know.” But even as I said it, I knew that wasn’t true, and I was quickly reminded of Jesus on the cross saying,
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).

I am reminded that Jesus felt the most pain. But that doesn’t take away the pain I feel from the brokenness and sadness of this fallen world. Still, I can take comfort in knowing that God does know how the pain feels—and that He is with me through it. I’ll never understand it, and as I get older and a tad wiser, I’m unsure if I ever could.

I’m eternally grateful for the time I spent with Austin and for being put in each other’s lives at such a young age, when we were trying to figure it out and make plans for the future. Sharing that time was truly such a beautiful season. It’s not easy being young and in love and trying to figure out what to do with the life ahead of you.

There is something so beautiful about the rollercoaster of relationships, life, and everything wrapped up in it. I’m unsure if I’ve just been extra reflective this year because I turned 30 and there’s a new decade in front of me that leaves the past behind… Yet there are parts of me, as I continue to move forward, that feel like they’re still stuck in the past—and I’m not sure if that ever changes. I don’t want to dwell on the past, and I don’t feel like I do (although if you’re reading this and thinking so, maybe you’re right). But there’s something about looking at the past, admiring it for the great and beautiful things, learning from the mistakes and the things that went wrong, and continuing to move forward—even though grief comes at different times, seasons, and different things can bring it to the surface.

As someone who feels and thinks to a depth many probably don’t, I have to allow myself time to reflect and let the emotions come up when they do—or else I’d be on a merry-go-round. And I don’t want that, because I’ve done that for most of my life. There’s something about looking at the past, honoring it, loving it even when it’s hard, and choosing to cherish it and love life.

I sometimes worry about what others think—it is seven years since Austin passed, and I’m still very single. I’ve dated here and there, but haven’t found someone who has stuck. I’ve also learned that I am just a very emotional person who loves and cares deeply for others and thinks about things on a deep level that many people can’t understand. I don’t want my future man to be the same as me, but I do want him to have the patience, care, and heart to know that sometimes, that’s just what happens—and it’s an ebb and flow kind of deal.

Not everyone can connect with their first love as deeply and vulnerably as some. I’m grateful that mine was, and I would say that even if Austin were still alive, but I know that the grief really affects the emotions surrounding the memories. We had a deep love for each other. We rarely saw eye to eye on things, but we did our best to understand each other. We always wanted the best for each other, even if that meant we shouldn’t be together.

Love is complex and sometimes complicated, but it is worth it.

I’m still hopeful to find someone who will love all of me, even the parts that are messy, broken, and don’t make sense. Someone who will know that Austin will always have a special place in my heart forever, and be okay with that.