On a particular gloomy Tuesday morning, I met up for breakfast with a few friends. I shared my predicament with one of them: how romance had found me but seemed to be ending before it even began.
It had started as a casual online chat with someone I met through a mutual friend. Over several weeks, we discovered we shared many interests from music to literature to art. Our long conversations filled the hours between work and evening. I was under the impression that he was single and available, given the tone of our exchanges. His messages often blurred boundaries. They felt intimate yet ambiguous, creating a sense of closeness that was hard to define.
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I only found out later that he was in a committed relationship and not as available as I initially believed. I felt confused about the romantic tone of his messages. Despite my desire to pursue this connection, I knew it was wrong. It took time to accept this painful truth. To make matters worse, he was reluctant to let our friendship end, which only complicated my feelings.
Back in the cafe, my friend listened patiently. She’s one of my soul sisters — someone from our faith community who has known me since childhood and has always spoken truth with kindness. After a thoughtful pause, she looked at me and said gently, “Yours is a one-sided love story.”
I brushed it off in the moment, trying to dismiss the weight of her words, but later, alone at my desk, they reverberated through me and broke me open. I cried, not only because she was right, but because I had been avoiding the uncomfortable truth I already knew deep down. I was left to grapple with the painful realization that I had either misread the situation or clung to a belief that wasn’t grounded in reality.
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For weeks, I held onto fragile hopes: a song lyric I believed was meant for me, or silence I mistook for waiting rather than absence. Yet, I knew I was clinging to an illusion. I had to cut the digital ties between us.
I bargained with God, prayed earnestly, and confided in a close friend who suggested I consider waiting. I postponed ending our communication because surrendering felt like admitting defeat. However, the persistent ache in my chest betrayed me, signaling that it was truly time to let go.
Within the confines of my bedroom, I prayed to St. Thérèse of Lisieux, asking her to help me surrender. When I opened my devotional book that evening, the words on the page pierced my heart and soul: “At your request, I will remove the heavy load from you and bury it at the foot of the cross.”
God was not going to take the decision away from me. But he promised to hold me through it.
I went out that night with my friends to escape the prison of my own sorrow. With their support, I finally acted. My hands trembled as I archived our chat and unfollowed and blocked him on social media. “You Belong With Me” by Taylor Swift was playing in the background; it was almost cruel.
I left my friends feeling lighter, but when I arrived home, the pain consumed me. I prayed desperately for comfort.
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And comfort came immediately. A random article appeared on my screen, inviting me to befriend an archangel: St. Raphael, the companion of wanderers, the healer of wounded hearts. It felt like God himself was answering my prayer: You are not alone in this letting go.
Until that night, I knew St. Raphael as the archangel people turn to for healing and help in finding a spouse. He is often remembered as the heavenly matchmaker; his intercession linked with love stories that end in joy.
But mine was not a fulfilled love story. It was an almost-love, one that ended before it truly began. And yet, even here, God sent St. Raphael not to play Cupid but to heal the deep wound of a broken heart.
I shared my newfound understanding of St. Raphael with my cousin, who encouraged me to read the Book of Tobit to get to know him better.
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Every night, before I went to bed, I opened my Bible to the book of Tobit and read one of the sweetest romantic stories I’ve ever read.
“So Raphael was sent to heal them both: to remove the white scales from Tobit’s eyes, so that he might again see with his own eyes God’s light; and to give Sarah, the daughter of Raguel, as a wife to Tobiah, the son of Tobit, and to rid her of the wicked demon Asmodeus. For it fell to Tobiah’s lot to claim her before any others who might wish to marry her.
At that very moment, Tobit turned from the courtyard to his house, and Raguel’s daughter Sarah came down from the upstairs room.” – Tobit 3:17
In their stories, I found my own reflection. Tobias needed direction; Sarah needed consolation. I needed both.
St. Raphael is known for being an emissary of love, but he entered my life not as a matchmaker but as a healer. His friendship was a reminder that God is the best companion who never abandons but instead walks with us with his merciful love.
I began turning to St. Raphael in prayer, and like a true friend, he walked beside me, guarding my heart until the sharp edges of heartbreak softened.
I started counting my blessings. I shifted my focus from what I lost to what I gained. God was filling that void with his whole, unfaltering love. I realized that though the relationship wasn’t meant to be, it was a reminder of my worth and my capacity to love. When the lesson was complete, God gently, persistently, pulled me back.
If you find yourself in the midst of heartbreak, take courage: God has not left you alone. Call upon St. Raphael. Invite him to walk with you, as he once walked with Tobias and Sarah.
Letting go may not feel like love at first. But in time, you will see that it is God’s love, protecting you, preparing you, and turning every ending into the beginning of grace.
St. Raphael, the Archangel, pray for us!
